Moves Like Jagger
by lothocas
Summary: Ivan puts himself under too much stress, so his therapist suggests he try dancing. Of course that class would be taught by a sexy blonde who can't keep his mouth shut and sees the same therapist. Maybe they can help each other. RusAme AU [Warnings include: discussion of mental disorders, eating disorders, and drug usage]
1. Welcome to the Club

Ah, me.

Okay, so I really like this idea, but I've got so much going on recently, and a book I am supposed to be writing, but I want to write this too.

I'm thinking that if I get a certain number of reviews on this, I will start dedicating myself to this fic, and update it weekly.

So, uh, here's my attempt at this.

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><p>"Ivan, it seems you are putting too much stress on yourself," Francis said, looking at his notes about his current patient through his reading glasses.<p>

"I know how dedicated you are to your work, mon ami, and it is a good thing, but… you need to give yourself some time to relax." The blonde leaned back in his leather chair and removed his glasses to look at Ivan, who was sitting on the patient couch. He always refused to lie down, which had suggested immediately to Francis that he was all business.

Ivan had been seeing Francis for therapy for the past few months, now. His boss had 'suggested' it, meaning that he either had to get the therapy or be fired because he was dangerous to his co-workers. Which was silly, because even if Ivan could give looks that would make people shit their pants, he wasn't actually going to hurt anyone. His boss failed to accept that, though, and so he was stoically sitting on the soft lounge chair meant for laying on, in an office obviously meant to feel comforting but only making him slightly annoyed.

"…What?" Ivan asked, giving Francis an incredulous look.

The blonde merely smiled, "You need to relax. Work has taken you over; you are incredibly stiff, even now." He laced his fingers together and leaned against his desk, "In your free time, when you do not have work, you should do something that you enjoy."

"I enjoy working."

"Ivan," Francis scolded, "That much work is not good for you. Really. Finding another activity that you enjoy will decrease your stress levels and make you feel calmer. Reading, painting, sports, exercise, going to movies- any of these things will help, you just need to find one that you like."

"What if I don't like any of those things?"

Francis shrugged, "Then find something different that you enjoy."

With a frown, Ivan looked at one of the 'relaxing' paintings of the sea that was hanging on wall, "What if there isn't anything else I enjoy?"

Francis was quiet for a moment, and Ivan thought that he might have asked a question that stumped him, but he turned out to be wrong when Francis grinned suddenly, "Then I will have to assign you a stress-relieving activity."

Curious, Ivan raised an eyebrow and looked at him, "…Such as?"

"Dancing."

"You cannot be serious."

"As serious as a heart-attack, cher, which you will probably end up having if I do not get you some stress relief as soon as possible," Francis retorted, pulling a folder out from one of his file cabinets and closing it with a thump. He threw the file onto the desk for Ivan to pick up, "Here, take a look. I am sure a man such as yourself would want some information on exactly what he is getting into."

Ivan nearly glared at the blonde but picked up the folder anyway, flipping it open to find a picture of another smiley blonde looking at him, "…Who is this?"

"Alfred Jones- Ah, sorry, Alfred _F._ Jones, I should say," Francis chuckled, "He's very particular about that."

Unamused, Ivan stared blankly at him, "And? What does this person have to do with me?"

Francis smiled, "Alfred is another patient of mine, here for a different reason than you, but more than that, he is someone who can teach you how to have fun."

"I'm not interested-"

"Alfred is in charge of a dance studio," Francis continued, ignoring him, "His 'crew' as it is called works primarily with a type of dance called 'Street Jazz', more commonly known as hip-hop. He has described it to me as 'really awesome ballet but a lot more sexy'."

Ivan nearly glared at him, "Mr. Bonnef-"

"Francis, Ivan."

"_Francis_," Ivan ground out, annoyed, "I am not interested in this 'street jazz' or whatever you called it, or this person who teaches it." He tossed the folder back onto the desk, staring it down like he hoped it might catch fire, "I will not be doing any dancing."

"Ivan, please understand," Francis said, working at the bridge of his nose, "I am seriously concerned about you. You may not realize it, but you are ridiculously stressed. You are wound too tightly, and at some point you are going to shatter." The blonde sighed, "Whether that will happen tomorrow or a year from now I cannot know, but if you keep yourself at this level of intensity without ever taking a moment to relax, you are turning yourself into a time bomb- you will eventually self-destruct."

Making sure he still had the pale-haired man's attention, he leaned forward, "Relaxation of any kind will be good for you. That will help you unwind. And if you refuse to do a relaxing activity on your own, for your own health I have to make you." He sat back and smiled a little, "Consider these classes your prescription- the medicine you need to relax you."

With a frown, Ivan sighed, resigning himself to the fact that there would be no winning with this man, "…Fine. One class. That is it."

"Ivan." Francis said warningly, "That is hardly even getting your feet wet."

"Two, then."

"Three at the very least."

"Two is my limit."

"I believe I have your boss on speed-dial…"

"…Three." Ivan muttered, standing now and preparing to leave, "But that is all."

Francis gave him a weak smile, "It seems that is all we can do, for now." He opened the folder on his desk, "Let me see… There is a class on Thursday at seven at the City Center downtown; I will let Alfred know that you are going to be there."

Ivan sighed and waved him off as he started to walk towards the door, "Do as you wish."

"See you next week, Ivan," the blonde chuckled, exhaling once his patient had left and slipping his glasses back on to write in his file.

_As stoic and unopen to change as ever. Enrolling him in Alfred's dance class, hopefully they can help each other._

On Thursday, Ivan did as he was told. He didn't like it, and he tried to rebel by not wearing the proper dancing attire, but he went anyway.

Early, in fact.

If there was one thing Ivan was not, it was late, and he prided himself on the fact that he was always punctual. When he arrived at the marked studio of the City Center, still wearing his suit from work, there were a few dancers stretching, practicing a few moves, and generally preparing, but he didn't see anyone that looked like the blonde in the picture he'd seen.

Setting a bad impression already, Ivan thought, checking his wristwatch.

Alfred didn't show up until 20 minutes later, making him 15 minutes late.

He offered his students an apologetic grin, slipping his glasses off as he shuffled through the door, "Hey, sorry guys, work was a little rough on me today." Some waved him off and others laughed, making him perk up and drop his gym bag by the door of the studio room they were in.

"Alright, well, now that I'm here, let's get down to it, shall we? You all been practicing the moves I taught you last time?"

He got some nods and cheers and general noises of 'yeah', so Alfred nodded and grinned, bending from side to side as a means of stretching out a little, "Cool, then we'll pick up from there."

It seemed he hadn't been noticed yet, so Ivan started contemplating just quietly walking out, but right as he began inching toward the door, Alfred spotted him, making a surprised face.

"Oh! Oh, hey, you're-" Laughing weakly, he blonde jogged over to him and rubbed at the back of his head, "Oh man, sorry bro, I didn't see you there." He offered his hand and smiled a bright smile, much brighter than fake, frightened ones Ivan usually received, "The name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones. I'm sure Francis told you about me…" He paused a moment, "..Ivan, right?"

So much for leaving.

Ivan grudgingly took Alfred's hand and gave it a firm shake, "Da, that is right." Francis had probably told him how to pronounce his name, he hadn't butchered it nearly as much as Ivan had been expecting.

Alfred grinned and gave Ivan's hand another squeeze before releasing it, "Awesome! Welcome to my Street Jazz class, Ivan!" Tilting his head a little, he gave him a look over, "Um, no offense, I dig the suit look, but… it's pretty tough to dance in that without hurting yourself or tearing your outfit." He patted his own thighs, "'s why I wear sweats, they're real easy to move in. Do you have anything like that to change into, or…?"

Frowning, Ivan shook his head, "I do not." Just as planned, of course.

Alfred blinked at him and looked to the rest of the group, "Um," he looked back and frowned a little, "Dang. Well, how's this- since it's your first day with us and all, you can just watch for now? Or, like, if you take the suit jacket off, you might be okay…" He made a thoughtful face and nodded, "Yeah, probably…"

Ivan shook his head again and held up a hand to stop Alfred's inspection of him, "Nyet, I think I will just watch."

It seemed he didn't like that idea even though he'd been the one to suggest it, as Alfred pouted and gave a slight sigh, "Well, okay. If you feel up to it later, though, you're free to join in." He gave him a thumbs up and little smile, and Ivan merely nodded.

He was getting away with this easier than he thought. Maybe if he stayed quiet and didn't draw attention to himself, he wouldn't have to come back.

"Hey, guys, listen up!"

Or not.

Alfred slung an arm around Ivan's shoulders, which was a bit difficult since Ivan was taller than him, and grinned, "This guy here is my new buddy Ivan, he's gonna dance with our crew for the next couple of weeks- maybe longer if he likes it!" The blonde winked at him, ignoring Ivan's annoyance, and continued, "He's not got the proper dressing for getting his groove thing on today, so he's just gonna watch for now, but give him a warm welcome, okay?"

…Fuck dance class.


	2. Dance Floor Anthem

Whoo, lordy.

I meant to finish this chapter earlier, so I apologize if it's not as good, but I churned it out in a flurry for ya. A

In the next chapter, we'll get some more Alfred and his crew, but why Alfred's in therapy is gonna be a super special secret for a little while~.

I hope you like this chapter, I'll be working on the next one through the week! \o/

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><p>That first day at class was… an experience.<p>

Before they started dancing, Ivan took a seat near the door and watched as the dancers stretched. He honestly didn't know that people could do some of the things they did.

Alfred himself seemed to feel like showing off his flexibility, pulling his foot back and up while at the same time leaning back so that his shoe touched the back of his head. And he managed to keep his balance, too. Bravo.

Where he was impressed at least by the flexibility of the dancers, they seemed to be doing a lot of ballet-like stretches, and he was confused.

This was a street jazz class, why did they need to prepare as if they were going to perform ballet?

When Alfred was ready, the rest of the crew lined up in their appropriate places in front of him as he rolled out his shoulders.

"Okay, guys, let's make a good impression on our new buddy over there."

He grinned at Ivan as some chuckles and cheers made their way through the studio, everyone getting into the mood to move.

There was a slight scoff and call from the back line, "Oh, come on, if we can get Luddy to come every week, we can get that guy into it, too!"

A chorus of laughs, including a booming one from Alfred. Ivan ignored it, and it seemed that the blonde in the front row who was being referenced preferred to ignore it, too.

"Psh, True facts, Mathais!" Alfred jeered, stepping forward to nudge the stoic blonde a bit, "And the guy's got some moves, too." He looked to Ivan and jerked a thumb towards the one they were talking about, "Ivan, this here is Ludwig. You two have similar body types, so if you need any help getting jiggy with it, talk to this guy about it."

Ludwig sighed and pushed Alfred away from himself, "With all due respect, I do not get 'jiggy' with it." Oh, Ivan could tell he and this guy were going to get along, since he himself had wanted to ask what that even meant.

Alfred merely grinned at him, "Your performances say otherwise, my friend. Speakin' of, can I get you to hit the tunes for us, Lizzy?"

A long-legged brunette from the second row smiled as she tied her hair back and out of her face, "Sure thing, Al. The one from last time?"

"That'd be the one," He confirmed, turning around to face the mirrored wall of the studio, "Should be the second track, it's cut for us already."

'Lizzy' nodded and hit the play button, causing a popular, upbeat song to start playing. Ivan hadn't heard it before, but he assumed it was one of the same old songs that were popular now.

Alfred was tapping his hip to the initial beat, and called out, "Okay guys, 5- 6- 7- 8-!"

Immediately after Alfred stopped calling numbers, the entire group starting moving at once, movements smooth and coordinated. It was… very cool to watch, actually.

In time with the beat and the music, they whipped their hair around, swayed their hips, took steps in any and every direction, stopped- restarted, punched the air, dipped low, came back up, spun, and other moves that Ivan could hardly keep track of. It was fast, on point, and actually fairly attractive, though Ivan would never ever admit that.

Though, really, it was hard not to find it attractive in at least one way.

The fact that their moves were sharp, exactly on time with the beat while at the same time having a sensual flow to them… was pretty amazing. Ivan had never seen anything like it, certainly.

The star of the show was certainly Mr. Teacher over there, Alfred. While the others did the moves well, yes, Alfred flowed with them like he was born to move like that, like he'd known it for his entire life.

And the sensuality of the moves didn't hurt him, either.

Where it was no ballet, it was some impressive dancing, Ivan had to hand it to them. When they stopped their routine, Alfred cheered and offered everyone highfives, "Whoo, nice! Dang, guys, I don't think we've hit it that hard since the last performance, right on!"

He got some cheers in return as he went over to where Ivan was sitting. He wiped his forehead (which didn't look sweaty) and huffed, "So? What'd ya think? Pretty cool, right?"

Ivan shrugged a shoulder, "It was… different. Very fast."

Alfred tilted his head at him, propping his hands on his hips, "Well, yeah, 'course. Most of the songs we dance to have a really fast beat, so we work with it." He snapped his fingers in the rhythm of the song, "It goes like this a lot of the time, that 1-2-3-4, 5-6-7-8, it goes real quick because that's the beat that's easy to dance to in a club."

"And you have to use these songs?" Ivan asked, skeptical.

"Um, not if we didn't want to, I guess," Alfred scratched at the back of his head, "But I mean, it's easy to dance to, and that makes choreography really varied. You can do a lot of stuff in a little amount of time if you do it fast."

Ivan paused, connecting something, "…So, you are also the choreographer?"

With a proud grin, Alfred puffed up and nodded, "Yessir, that's me. Any dance we do in this class came from my brain and lots of hours of songs on repeat."

Nodding mutely, Ivan supposed that could be another reason why it was fast, this person seemed very excitable. "Ah. Well, it was very interesting to watch."

Alfred gave a nod and smile, "Thank you, I'm glad you liked it. You wanna try some moves while you're here?" He nodded his head to where the others were taking drinks of water and practicing some steps, "If you take your jacket off, I think you'll be able to move around enough… Shoes, too."

Ivan looked down at his suit and frowned, shaking his head, "I don't think I will be doing any of that today, thank you."

Alfred laughed heartily, "Oh, no, there's no way you'd be doing _that_ today, you just got here." He grinned and did a little shuffle back and forth and side to side, "No, when you start, you gotta start small. I'm gonna start you on the basics when you find yourself clothed right, Ivan, so come prepared next time, okay?" He winked at him before giving a wave and heading back to the others.

If he didn't dislike the idea of dancing at all, he would have been annoyed by that statement. But no, he didn't care, he didn't want to dance. That little comment didn't sit in his head and bug him for the rest of the night, on his drive home and while he was trying to go to sleep.

No, not at all.

Francis asked him about it the next time they met, "So, how was dance class?" He had a smirk in his voice.

"Fast."

"Oh? Did you learn quickly, then?" He asked happily, thinking there was progress.

Ivan shook his head from where he sat back against the couch, "Nyet, they moved fast. I watched."

Francis frowned, "So, he did not start teaching you?"

"He tried."

"_Ivan_."

The Russian shrugged, "I was improperly dressed for dancing. I did not know there was a dress code."

With a sigh, Francis shook his head and made a note in Ivan's folder, "I should have known you would do something like that. Did you do anything at all while you were there?"

"I had some water and watched people practice," Ivan murmured, brushing off his suit pants.

"Did you at least talk to Alfred?" Francis asked, annoyed that his advice was being taken so poorly.

Ivan hoped the muscle twitch of his eyebrow wasn't as noticeable as it felt, "…A little bit."

Unfortunately, Francis raised his eyebrows in surprise and he encouraged him to speak more, obviously interested, "And?"

"He said I came unprepared, and that I would start on the basics next class," He deadpanned, trying not to grit his teeth.

With a little chuckle, Francis jotted some more notes and looked at him over the tops of his reading glasses, "And that annoyed you?"

Ivan sighed, "Of course it did."

"Why?"

"He said I was _unprepared_." Ivan seemed to almost shudder at the word, and gave a gesture towards himself, "Me, unprepared. I am never unprepared. I wore my suit because I did not want to dance, not because I was unprepared. I was prepared to not dance."

He frowned and Francis shook his head in amusement, "He called your bluff, then."

Ivan looked confused, "My… bluff? No. No, he insulted my professionalism, not my honesty."

Francis removed his glasses and looked at him, "And you dislike that, non?" He didn't bother to tell him he was being childish and unprofessional for not doing what he was told, as that would merely set him off more.

"Very much."

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Francis leaned back in his chair and made a gesture of laying out the facts, "Alfred thinks you are unprofessional. Are you just going to stand by and let him think that about you- the model worker?"

Ivan straightened and gave a look of realization, "…No. I will not."

Francis nodded, "Then how will you change his opinion? You've made a bad first impression already, it seems…"

Shaking his head, Ivan decided, "He does not know anything, yet. On the next class, I will show him how professional I am." He stood with his determination and gave a nod to Francis, "Thank you, I will be seeing you next week."

Francis waved him away, "Tell me how you do at the next class, Ivan~."

As he heard his door close, he sat back and chuckled, putting his glasses back on to write a few more notes on his newly determined patient. "…This will certainly be interesting." On his paper, he was underlining_ Very similar_ under Alfred's name, very interested now in hearing Alfred's version of the class. Luckily, he was going to be seeing him in a few hours.

Oh, what fun it was to be a therapist.


	3. Me Against the Music

When Ivan went home that night, he started his research on how to be prepared for the next class. Alfred had been wearing sweatpants, gray things that had hung loosely to him and let him move freely.

He would start there.

He searched for them online, looking for which ones would be best for dancing. His goal was to find ones that would help him to move like Alfred.

Even if he thought Alfred was a cocky guy who jumped to conclusions, the man could dance.

He could appreciate talent, at least.

Pants probably wouldn't make him dance as well as the people in Alfred's class, but, at least he would look the part.

Once he had written down what kind of pants he needed, he wondered about shoes. The class had been in mostly tennis shoes, if he recalled right, so he might be able to use the pair he wore to the gym every now and then...

Ivan walked through his lavish apartment to his room, throwing his closet open to look around for anything he might be able to use.

Suits lined the rows of his closet in perfect form, looking less like a closet and more like the racks of a men's clothing store.

Jackets and dress pants on one side, dress shirts on the other.

Nothing suitable (hah) for dance class.

The floor of the closet had a few pairs of dress shoes, just enough for every day of the week. No tennis shoes there.

With a sigh, he shut the door, deciding that if he had anything that might work for class, it would be in his chest of drawers.

He pulled each of the drawers open one by one, the underwear drawer, the sock drawer, the drawer for his white shirts... The last few drawers had a few pairs of athletic shorts in them, a few 'Team Building Exercise' shirts, and his pajamas.

Not much there, though he supposed he could just wear a team building shirt and athletic shorts if he had no other options.

He found his neglected tennis shoes near the bedside table, heels turned towards the wall neatly. He smiled, that would solve the shoes problem.

Though, he didn't feel comfortable with wearing athletic shorts to dance class, everyone else had been dressed... it seemed professional to him, even if they were just in sweat pants and such.

He was sure some of them had been wearing shorts, but he couldn't imagine himself dancing (He could hardly imagine that at all) in them. He sighed and headed back to the living room to get his keys- if he had to dance, he would be as comfortable as possible doing it, and if Alfred was going to wear sweatpants and dance like that, then so would he.

As he headed to his car, the keys swinging from his hand loosely, he had a thought.

Why was he getting so worked up about this? He didn't even want to dance at all, why did it matter what he wore?

And why did what Alfred wore and did have any effect on him?

It didn't matter, Alfred didn't control him.

Yeah, Ivan did what he wanted; Alfred had nothing to do with it.

And therefore, he was going to buy himself some sweatpants.

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><p>Meanwhile, Alfred was crouched over the porcelain toilet in his apartment, upchucking the dinner of McDonalds he'd had after some dance practice. It did not taste as good going the other way.<p>

He sat back and panted when his stomach was empty, wiping his mouth and flushing the toilet as he got up to clean his face. Sure enough, he looked like a mess.

_You always look like a mess_, an internal voice told him, and he splashed water onto his face, muttering, "Shut up" under his breath.

It had been like this for a while now, and he was getting sick of it. It was the reason he'd even signed up for therapy, that goddamn voice had started making him feel bad enough that he was taking it out on himself, and his digestive system.

He huffed over the sink and dried his face off, heading back to his bedroom and flopping down on the bed heavily. He felt awful. He always did feel awful after that.

It wasn't as bad when he took diuretics, Francis had called them, or just worked out until he could hardly walk anymore, but those were still hurting him. Francis had said that it would take some time to get him out of those behaviors, but for now to try and stop throwing up.

And he was. He really was trying.

But after a big dinner of McDonalds, his favorite food, he felt like a greasy slob, and his mind echoed the feeling back to him harshly. So harshly that he couldn't take it anymore and just got rid of the problem.

But now he'd done what Francis had told him not to, and that almost made him feel worse.

_You can't do anything right, can you?_

"Shut the fuck up," He snapped hoarsely, picking up his cell phone from the bedside table. He flipped to Francis's number and pressed call, hoping he would pick up. On the second ring, he heard the Frenchman's voice.

"Alfred? How can I help you?"

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I have caller ID, cher. It is not so hard," Francis chuckled a little, "What is the matter?"

Alfred sighed deeply and rubbed at the back of his neck, "…It's not a good day."

Francis made a noise of understanding, "Ah. I will take that to mean you had an encounter with the commode, then?"

Though Francis couldn't see it, Alfred nodded sadly, "Yeah. I tried not to, I did, but… he kept picking at me and saying terrible things…"

"I understand, Alfred. It is okay. It is not going to be that easy to stop; I know that," Francis said calmly, "You do not like doing that, either, I know that, too. That voice will start to go away, little by little. For now, take one of the pills I prescribed and try to get some sleep. Do not think about it. Remember the exercises we went over and try to relax yourself. You can get through this."

Alfred nodded again and gave a shaky exhale, "Okay, Okay."

"There is a good boy. Breathe."

The dancer breathed in slowly and let it back out.

"Good. Are you going to be okay, mon ami?" Francis asked quietly.

"Y-Yeah," Alfred took another deep breath and let it out, "Yeah, I'll be okay. I'll go take one of my pills. Thank you, Francis."

"Anytime, Alfred. You can do this, remember that."

Alfred closed his eyes and nodded, "I'll remember. Goodnight."

He hung up his phone and set it back down on the bedside table, taking a few more deep breaths before nodding and getting up to go back to the bathroom for the pill Francis had given him.

_You're so weak. You can't stop on your own. You need a pill to keep you normal. So weak._

Alfred bit his lip and tried to remember what Francis told him, "It's not a sign of weakness to ask for help, it's a sign of strength. It's a sign of strength." He started thinking that in a mantra to himself so that he couldn't hear the voice and could take the pill in some semblance of peace.

After he'd washed it down with water, he headed back to bed, tired and moody.

_So weak._

"Shut. Up."


	4. She Blinded Me With Science

A/N: I am so sorry that I haven't been able to update this in ages, but here's a new chapter! /SOB

I'm gonna work on updating this more- I had good plans for this story at one point, I just need to get back to it. I apologize, this chapter is kinda lacking, but the dance off is here! ;w;

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><p>This 'dance off' was not what he expected.<p>

Not by a long shot.

He expected some current repetitive pop song to be playing, like there had been in Alfred's studio room, and the two would swivel their hips in the current style of dancing and generally try to use as much flare as they could doing the same kinds of moves over and over- Antonio's would differ from Alfred's only in that they were more fluid. That was the expectation.

However, when Antonio's class joined Alfred's in crowding at the back of the studio room, Antonio pulled out a worn CD case, the disc inside still looking new, but marked up in two different colored inks. One was in Spanish, and the other was in English, and from where he sat, Ivan couldn't make out the chicken scratch on the silver.

Not that he could have even if it had been written legibly, as he had an excitable Italian (whose name, he'd learned, was Feliciano) next to him and in front of him and everywhere at once and it was dizzying.

"This is so exciting! Tonio and Al haven't had a dance off in forever!"

Ludwig huffed and gave him a look, "Calm down, Feli, you have seen this show before."

"But it's always amazing!" Feliciano said, and his eyes read sincerity, "It's never the same, even if it's the same song- they're so cool!"

Ivan looked between them and exhaled heavily, "…What exactly is going to happen here?"

For a moment, Ludwig gave him an odd look, then explained, "They will put on a song, each of them will dance a part, one at a time, and at the end, you decide whose dancing you liked better. Then who's class you would prefer to be in."

Ivan blinked, "…With all due respect, I do not think that I am the best person to be judging two dancers." He neglected to mention that it was Alfred's class, specifically, that Francis had assigned him, so he couldn't very well leave it anyway. Or well, wouldn't. It would be unprofessional.

Ludwig shrugged, "I didn't think so, either. But, it makes a difference. You'll come to find that you want to do this, dancing, even if you feel apprehensive at first."

He offered Ivan a small smile, and it looked odd paired with the shapes of his face, "It's a bit strange, but enjoyable. Be open-minded in your judgments, and you'll see that it's more than it seems at first glance."

Feliciano nodded brightly, an odd strand of hair bobbing about his face with the movement, "Yep! It makes you feel better about all kinds of things, Al taught us that.

Where he was still processing the information Ludwig had just given him, Ivan gave a slow nod and hummed, looking over at where Alfred and Antonio were stretching for their dance, "Lucky me."

In the moment he looked over at the two men, he was caught by a pair of bright blue eyes and mentally cursed as they held his gaze. Alfred stood, not taking his eyes off of Ivan, and walked over. He wasn't smiling, but his gait suggested that he was relaxed enough that there was no threat, Ivan read.

He also read the anxiety in his eyes as he shifted and rubbed awkwardly at his arm, "Um, right. So, me and Tonio are gonna do this thing, and… Well, I mean, you've already seen my stuff before, but seeing Tonio's too and comparing and all that will make choosing easier and stuff…" The blonde sighed a little and stood straighter, "Just- if you like Tonio's better, and wanna take his class for your assignment thing, I can talk to Francis about it. He might be forcing you to do this, but I'm not gonna force you any further, so you can pick what you like, okay?" He said, surprising Ivan.

The pale-haired man nodded slowly, "…Thank you, Alfred. I appreciate that."

Alfred nodded back and gave him a little smile, "No problem, buddy. I'd hate to make ya do something you didn't want to. Besides, I was kinda thinkin' we could be friends, regardless of who's class you're in." His smiled turned kinda bashful for a moment and he scratched at the back of his head, "Just, you know, since we see the same th- er, Francis. It'd be cool to rag on him with somebody."

Ivan grinned now, "That it would."

Alfred smiled in elation, bobbing his head in a nod that made the weird cowlick at his hairline wiggle enthusiastically, "Great! Well, uh," he looked back to Antonio who raised an eyebrow at him knowingly, "We gotta do this thing, so sit back and enjoy the show, okay?"

With a little wave, Ivan did just that, and Alfred went back over to where Antonio was, where the brunette grinned at him, "Have you developed a crush already, mi amigo?"

Alfred rolled his eyes at him, "Oh shut up, no. I hardly know the guy. But he's totally taking my class, so let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"I couldn't agree more," Antonio said, and pressed a button on the player to start up the music.

It was different than Ivan had thought.

The music wasn't a current pop song with that steady beat, it was an older song, one with a nice mix of instruments that seemed distinctly Latin. As Alfred and Antonio both fell into the rhythm, the music paused for the arrival of the deep, seductive voice of the singer, and Antonio took the first dance.

The singer crooned about music, and the swaying of bodies, and Antonio mirrored the feeling with a sultry swish of his hips into the most fluid turn and pose that Ivan had ever seen. He was liquid movement, a person that did not dance so much as flow through the air, his arms raised above his head, or out to aid his spin, or along himself to suggest a semblance of control over his limbs.

It was lovely, truly, reminding Ivan of the times he'd seen Latin dancing on TV, but even more romantic in person. He liked it. As did the members of Antonio's class, who whistled and cheered at him.

But then there was a new verse to the song, and Antonio bowed to Alfred with a gesture and lift of his lips in a smile.

Alfred bowed back, grinning, and joined the voice of the singer in bending and swaying along to the beat of the song, yet his movement was distinctly different from Antonio's. Part of him moved with the lyrics, and part of him moved with the underlying beat of the song, whereas Antonio had moved strictly with the rhythm.

The blonde's dancing was not as romantic as Antonio's, but infinitely more mesmerizing. He dipped and rose slowly, hips doing a sensual rock back and forth with the beat. His eyes were closed for the most part, but he'd occasionally open them to send Ivan a look, or glance at Antonio, or merely make his smooth gesturing that much more powerful. He rolled his head, shoulders kissing each ear one after the other, and spun, seeming to switch tactics. He now used his legs more than before, a complicated stepping that accentuated the curves of his hips and the slight dip between his stomach and groin. As he moved, his shirt rode up a bit with the rising of his arms, exposing a small crescent of lightly tanned skin that was slightly paler than the skin of his arms.

He ended his part by straightening up and closing his legs tightly together, as if he'd pulled himself to the upright like a puppet, and bringing an arm out to gesture to Antonio, grinning once again as Antonio took his turn.

It went on like that until the end of the song, each of them having equal opportunity to show their stuff, and thoroughly impressing Ivan.

By the time the song was over (the span of a few minutes), the two were breathing a bit heavier than normal, and there was a slight sheen of sweat on Alfred's forehead. They posed appropriately and their classes clapped for them as they bowed together and shook hands, amicable and pleased looking.

With a huff, Alfred put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight as he looked over at Ivan, "So! Any instant decisions, or you want a minute to think about it?"

Ivan nodded, indicating the latter, "Some time would be nice, thanks."

Alfred gave a hum of recognition and stepped back from where he was to get the CD out of the player. Antonio joined him and handed the blonde a bottle of water, which he gratefully accepted and took a swig of before they both sat down, grinning and wiping sweat from their faces.

Ludwig hummed next to Ivan and leaned back, muttering, "…I wish I had a cigarette."

Ivan let out a breath and closed his eyes, "I agree."

"I've seen them do that a few times, and it never gets old," the blonde said, tipping his head back and lacing his hands across his stomach.

Feliciano agreed, humming pleasantly, "Yeah. Al and Tonio are really good at what they do, don't you think?"

With a little dip of his head, Ivan opened his eyes to look at the dancers, "…Yes. I should say they are."

"So do you know whose class you want, yet?" Feliciano eyes, eyes bright with curiosity.

Ivan offered him a non-committal grunt, which made Ludwig grin.

"Feli, don't pry. He's probably known since before they started dancing."

Smirking, Ivan looked at the blonde man, "It seems we are two birds of a feather."

"You could say that," Ludwig said, opening his eyes to smirk back at him.

"And you think you know who I will choose?"

"I never said that," Ludwig said, "Though I have an idea."

"Well, let us see if you are right," Ivan chuckled, standing now, and making Antonio and Alfred turn their eyes to him.

Alfred stood, "You decided?"

The pale haired man nodded, "Yes. Mr. Antonio-"

"Just Antonio is fine, or Toni or Tonio," The Spaniard said, smiling and standing next to Alfred.

"Antonio, then. Where I appreciate the offer, and I like your style of dancing, I will be staying in Alfred's class," he said, hands clasped behind his back as he dipped his head politely at him.

Antonio returned the gesture with a smile, "No problem. If you ever want to come by my class just to sit in, you are more than welcome."

Ivan smiled a bit, "Thank you."

Alfred, meanwhile, was grinning from ear to ear, and after Ivan and Antonio had a friendly handshake, Alfred essentially tackle-hugged Ivan in his excitement, "Awesome!"

Ivan was shocked for a moment, tense in Alfred's grip, before Alfred leaned back, still grinning brightly, "Oh, man, you are not gonna regret this, I promise!"

With a short nod, Ivan let out a breath, "I certainly hope not."

Giving him a wink, Alfred looked to his other dancers and clapped his hands, "Okay, guys, now Ivan's officially with us!"

The group clapped and cheered in welcome, and Ivan ducked his head, not liking the attention. Alfred put a hand on Ivan's shoulder, "As soon as Tonio and his crew clear out, I'm gonna teach you guys the next few steps in 'Moves Like Jagger', then have Lizzy and Ludwig take over while I teach Ivan the basics, alright? Any questions?"

Ludwig raised his hand, "Why do I have to help teach?"

"Because you're one of the best, Luddy, and you're a good teacher." Alfred grinned at him, "Strict and straight-forward. You'll make sure they get it, won't ya?"

The lighter blond coughed and turned his head, "…I suppose I could assist."

"Atta boy," Alfred chuckled and waved over at Antonio, "See you guys, have fun with your moves, buddy."

Antonio smiled and gave Alfred a little salute, "Same to you, Al. We'll get out of your hair."

They shared a fist bump, and Antonio's class left with waves and smiles, expect for one who got a huge hug from Feliciano, "Ciao, fratello!"

The similar-looking brunette gave him a little kiss on the cheek and grunted, "Ciao." Before he left, making the last of Antonio's crew to exit the studio room.

When they were all gone, Alfred exhaled and smiled brightly, "Okay, back to work, guys. Now, to 'I'll take it from here', let's do a run through." He hooked his iPod up to the player and hit play, counting off the rhythms in quiet snaps to himself before counting out loud, "Five, Six-"

Then the lyrics started, and a second later, there was movement. Alfred seemed to glide through his steps, then would abruptly shift to a sharp jerk of a gesture, then a hip-move, and so on. Once again, excellent to watch, Ivan thought, studying how his legs moved and how he managed to do that with his hips without making himself look like he was trying too hard.

When they'd reached the last point of the song they knew, Alfred smiled and stopped them, moving the music back and letting it play for a few seconds before he explained the new moves, which he counted out and did quickly the first time, then turned the music off and tried it again. He slowed the pace by quite a bit and went through each step carefully, counting and using some of the words from the song as he moved through that part. It was odd to see the movements slowed down, but somehow oddly intriguing as well.

When it looked like everyone had it, he smiled and rocked back and forth setting the music back up and snapping as he called the beat again. This time, everyone moved with him, seeming to pick up the steps quite easily.

Were they that skilled? Ivan didn't think he'd be able to pick it up that easily after only seeing those moves twice, but the group seemed to get it, for the most part. Alfred nodded in approval when they'd finished that part, turning off the music and clapping his hands, "Alrighty! Well, now that you've got that, practice it for a bit, and I'll be working with Ivan if you want me to help with anything, okay?"

The group nodded, and Alfred turned to Ivan with a smile, heading over and propping his hands on his hips with a little hum, "So, Ivan. Do you have any previous dancing experience?"

Hands messing with the grey sweatpants at his thighs, Ivan shook his head, "No, none."

Alfred smiled, "Kay. Do you know any moves, or is there any type of music you particularly like?"

"Classical."

"Oh, lord." Alfred laughed, running a hand through his hair, "Okay. Um. How to explain this for you…"

He exhaled before snapping as an idea came to him, "Right! This is gonna be odd for you, but bear with me, the basics seem weird until you can use them right."

As Ivan blinked, Alfred put his hands on the pale-haired man's hips, smiling sheepishly, "Don't freak out, there's a reason for this." With a huff, Ivan shrugged and held his arms out away from Alfred's hands.

The blonde grinned and nodded, "Okay, first thing's first, we gotta teach you how to move these."

"I am fairly certain I know how to do that," Ivan said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Alfred shook his head, "No, I'm fairly sure you don't. If you've never danced before, these puppies," he rocked Ivan's hips back and forth, "have never been trained, regardless of what else you might have done. Unless you did ballet, but you told me you had no other training- so!"

He exhaled and started to sway Ivan's hips under his hands, "The first thing we'll do is get your hips used to movement. It's a crucial part of dancing, especially this kind. Your hips lead your body in movement, so it's important we take care of this first."

Awkwardly, Ivan twisted to move his hips under Alfred's hands, rocking them in the way Alfred was asking for and earning a pleased smile, "There you go, good!"

Alfred took his hands off Ivan's hips, and the movement stopped, making the blonde laugh and put his hands back, "No, no, no, keep moving!"

Ivan huffed and continued the movement, this time keeping it going when Alfred removed his hands. The blonde nodded at the rhythm Ivan had going, tapping his leg in a beat to go along with it, "Good, good. Now," he started moving his hips in the same way and smiled, "There are different beats that people can move at, and the hips are the best for picking up on them. For instance, in 'Moves Like Jagger the beat is kinda fast," he tapped a rhythm against his leg and sped up his hips to meet that, "So the hip movement would go like this."

Though he'd seen it before, there had been more movement during the dance than just hips, so there had only been a small part where the blonde's hips had moved like that, and now that he was seeing it by itself, it was very very fast, and he was a bit mesmerized.

Alfred smiled at him and gestured for him to try, to which Ivan paused a moment before managing to pick it up. The other man seemed impressed, "Not bad! Yeah, you're a lot like Luddy, though you've got a little more handle than he has." Alfred chuckled and gave him a wink, "Don't worry, that'll be an advantage. The more hip, the better you can move it."

Ivan scoffed, hips still moving to Alfred's beat, "If that is the case, you seem a bit smaller than you should be."

For a slight second, Alfred looked as if he would frown, but then he smiled brightly, "Yeah. I could probably do to gain a bit, but… you know, 's not usually a good thing." He shrugged and shut his eyes a second, "But, anyway. This is fast, let's show you slow."

"Was what we were doing earlier not slow?"

Alfred laughed, "Eh, I'd call it medium. Slow is when you really break it down." He slowed his movement to be a gentle swing of his hips, somehow just as mesmerizing, "It's more sensual, and songs that are more romantic or something will sometimes have beats like this."

Carefully examining the new pace, Ivan slowed his movement as well, making his hips match Alfred's in speed and feeling slightly intrigued by the movement.

As he noticed the change in Ivan's expression, Alfred smiled and nodded, "Neat, right? With the stuff we do, we'll usually only use a pace like this if we're deliberately trying to be seductive, but that happens every now and then, and will in 'Move Like Jagger', which I plan to teach you, so you'll be able to do this in an actual performance."

Vaguely, Ivan nodded, tilting his head, "…You expect to teach me the dance you all were just doing?"

Brightly, Alfred nodded, "Uh-huh!"

"…How long did you think I was going to be in this class?" Ivan asked incredulously.

With a cocky shrug, Alfred grinned, "I know you made a deal with Francis that you had to do three classes, and this is number two, but I have a feeling you'll want to stay longer. You'll find that it's more fun than you thought it would be."

Ivan gave him a look, "We'll see about that."

Alfred raised an amused eyebrow, "Is that a challenge?"

"Perhaps."

"Okay, how's this?" Alfred stopped moving and held up three fingers, "Give me another three classes, three after this one, to show you what it's like, and if you end up staying…" He tapped his chin, before pointing at him, "You have to take me out to dinner."

With a scoff, Ivan rolled his eyes, "Really? Fine. A dinner it is, then. And if I don't enjoy the class enough to stay?"

Alfred hummed, "I take you to dinner instead, and charge Francis for all your classes."

"Wait a minute, regardless of who wins, we end up going to dinner, " Ivan pointed out.

"Yeah, but it changes who pays for it," Alfred grinned and offered him a shrugged shoulder, "We both see Francis for some reason, so we've got that in common, might as well get to know each other."

Ivan stared at him, "…Are you asking me out?"

Alfred pat Ivan's arm, "Very good, you picked that up. In no uncertain terms, yes. But don't feel pressured to do anything, bro, I'm mostly just happy you chose my class and stuff…" Suddenly, he looked away and dropped his hand, giving a slight cough as his cheeks pinked pleasantly, "So, yeah, stuff. Dancing!" He looked up and smiled, face still pink, "We were dancing, let's dance."

With an odd look, Ivan exhaled and shook his head, giving a small smile, "Right, dancing."

Alfred proceed to teach him how to roll his shoulders correctly, how to move them in tandem with his hips, and how to bend his knees for a better rotation.

It was weird at first, but Ivan managed to get the hand of it fairly easily, and Alfred grinned at him when it was time to let everyone go, "For a newbie, you're going great! Practice a little at home, or when you can, and I'll teach you some more stuff next week."

Ivan nodded, wiping his forehead and giving a little smile, "Alright. Anything in particular I should listen to?"

Alfred hummed, "Moves Like Jagger, for one, but anything else by Maroon 5, or any of the things that have been on the radio recently, they all have a similar beat."

As he packed up his bag, Ivan made a note of that, "Alright, thank you."

Smiling, Alfred packed his stuff up as well, "No problem. And if you ever want to just talk or anything, dance or otherwise, text me or something, okay?"

Ivan made an odd face at him, "But I do not have your number."

"Ah, well. I thought Francis would have given it to you. Oh well. We should fix that." Alfred fished his phone out of his pocket, where he'd put it after they finished dancing, and held it out to him, "Here, add yours and I'll text you later."

With a strange look, Ivan took Alfred's phone and carefully typed the number in, handing it back to him to receive a grin.

"Thaaank you," Alfred said, plucking the phone from Ivan's fingers and bumping his hip against Ivan's as he left, "See you next week, Ivan."

And Alfred left with most of the class, sashaying out as a whistle rang out to Ivan's right and a weight was placed on his shoulder. It turned out to be the elbow of a man about the same height as him, with hair sticking out in odd directions, "My my my, he's got quite the hots for you, hasn't he?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow at the man and dipped his shoulder so that the man's elbow fell, watching as the blonde in question left.


	5. Dance Dance

"So, you have actually started dancing now, have you?" Francis was asking, a small victorious smirk on his face.

Alfred nodded, "Yeah, Ivan's pretty cool about everything now, after the dance off and stuff."

"Willing?"

"For the most part," Alfred shrugged, reclining against the chair and putting his arms behind his head, "As much as he can be, considering."

"Considering what, cher?"

For a moment, Alfred closed his eyes, smiling and making a vague gesture, "Oh, you know, just that you've made him take the class, and he's not the type that would normally get into it, and he got fought over by two dancing strangers like it was a duel. You know, that."

Francis smiled, "Alright, point. What have you taught him so far? Does he seem to be responsive?"

"Well, yeah, surprisingly so," Alfred said, opening his eyes now and putting his hands out, "He's gonna be like Ludwig- nah, I think he'll end up being even better. He's got that type of body that works really well with this style of dancing, and he's got a good handle on hip movements, from what I saw, so I think he'll be really good. He worked with me well enough when I was showing him how to move a bit."

"You taught him how to move his hips?" Francis asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"Duh," The blonde closed his eyes again and put his hands over his chest, "He obviously didn't know how to do it properly on his own, but with a little instruction, he picked it up. I told him to practice, I think he'll be real good at it for the routines."

Nodding, Francis smiled and wrote something down on his notes, "Mhm. Because of his body type?"

"Well, yeah, among other things," He murmured, "I mean, he's got that stocky-build," Alfred stiffened against the chair and set his shoulders straight, "Broad shoulders and medium-waist. It makes for a good combo. I told him as much."

Surprised, Francis grinned at him, "You complimented his hips?"

Alfred grinned right back and relaxed, "Well, yeah, kinda. I said he had more handles than Ludwig does, and that was gonna be good."

"And he said?"

"That I seemed a bit small if that was the case," Alfred said, making air-quotes and humming, "That's not the reaction I usually get."

Francis nodded, "From others, or from yourself, mon ami?"

Sighing, Alfred brought a hand to his forehead, "…Both. Usually if I get comments from people about it, it's about my ass, or something, or how my 'hips don't lie'."

"Ah. And your mind is not as kind, from what I know of it, non?"

Alfred closed his eyes, "…Yeah. I don't…" He exhaled, "…If ever that says anything, it's how I'm a fatass who is too big to be in this line of work, and I say that big hips are better just to have an excuse for myself. I…" He paused, "…I know it's not true, but… dang, it's not cool. Not when it's up there, and I can't ignore it."

Nodding, Francis wrote that down, "It is not. You do know it is not true, and that is good. Ivan noted it, even, and he does not know you very well."

"Yeah…" Alfred said, smiling a little, "He did."

"And he was completely correct, I might add," Francis said, leaning his cheek against his hand and smiling at him, "Where you are at a great size just the way you are, I think a few added pounds would look good on you as well."

Alfred shrugged a shoulder, "Probably. Been feeling kinda light-headed recently, the weight would probably be good for me."

Francis's expression turned slightly worried, "Are you getting head-rushes again, cher?"

Wriggling his feet, Alfred looked at them boredly, "…Sometimes. Just if I've been sitting down for a while and suddenly get up."

"Have you checked your iron levels recently?"

"It's been a few weeks, but last time I checked it was okay…"

Francis hummed and wrote that down, "The head-rushes are not a good sign. Check your levels when you get home, alright? And will you do me a favor, mon ami, and try to eat more red meat? And you are incorporating vegetables into your meals, right?"

Alfred was quiet for a moment, and Francis let out a breath, "Oh, do not make me mother you any more than I already am, Alfred."

"But they're gross, Francissssssss," Alfred whined, wriggling lower onto the couch-chair and pouting, "Fruits aren't that bad, but I seriously don't think there's one vegetable I like."

"Try mixing them into other things," The therapist advised, "Like stir-fry, or a casserole. I can send you some recipes for things you will like."

Grumbling, Alfred crossed his arms, "Okay, sure. Whatever. No promises."

Rolling his eyes, Francis made a note on Alfred's chart to do that, then leaned back in his chair a bit, "On that note, cher, we are almost out of time. Is there anything else you would like to talk to me about before you go?"

Forgetting the food for a moment, Alfred closed his eyes and thought about that, "Hm, talked about the class, Ivan, the voice- Oh, hey, wait, we made a bet!"

"A bet?" Francis asked, curious, "You and Ivan, or you and the voice?"

"Ivan and me," Alfred said, wrinkling his nose at the thought of making a bet with the voice, "You told him he had to come for three of my sessions, right? The next one will be the last one he's required to go to- but I bet him that if he stays for three more classes after this next one, he'll end up staying anyway because he'll enjoy it."

Francis smiled brightly, "Very good, Alfred! You two are both the type to enjoy challenges, a bet is perfect for you. I think it will work, too. What are the stakes?"

Alfred tilted his head towards Francis and grinned sheepishly, "If I win, he's gotta buy me dinner, if he wins, I buy for him."

Now Francis chuckled, "Oh, so you have taken an interest in him, then?"

Shaking his head, Alfred put his hands over his face, "No, I just!" He sighed, "It's not really like that, two guys can have dinner without being together, but… I mean, it'd be cool if that worked out, and he kinda is my type and stuff…"

Francis nodded while Alfred sank lower onto the couch and groaned, "He asked me if I was asking him out and I said I was- man, I'm so dumb, that was a dumb move, Alfred, way to go."

Clicking his pen, Francis tutted at the embarrassed man, whose ears were red enough that Francis could see them from his desk, "Now, Alfred, do not worry, it was not a dumb move. If anything, I am glad you did that."

Alfred looked at him, frowning, "Why? We don't even have a friendship yet, it was a terrible idea to ask him out like that."

Smiling, Francis held a hand up to shush him, "It might seem like that, but there are good things that come from this. First, he is now aware that your sexual orientation includes men." Alfred groaned again and shut his eyes as Francis continued, "Second, he is aware that you might be attracted to him, always good to know, and a bit of a self-esteem boost."

"He's not the only one who needs his self-esteem boosted," the huffy blond muttered, glaring at the ceiling like it had done him some wrong, "And plus, I said that I really just want to be friends- I think it was adrenaline, Francis, that's why I said that."

"Come now, Alfred, you said it because it is what you were thinking and feeling at the time," Francis said gently, scribbling onto his clipboard, "Otherwise you would not have added the friend bit at all. It is even better that you added that, as now he knows that a relationship with you could be one of both friendship and romantic interest, as opposed to one or the other. This is a good thing, cher, I promise."

Alfred turned his head to him, looking worried, "Are you sure? I really don't want to mess anything up with him, we've only just met each other and god knows we don't need anything else crazy in our lives, each of us already sees you."

Francis chuckled, "Indeed. Alfred, if you continue to do what you do- be a dance instructor and a general good person, you two will hit it off just fine. You two will dance, become friends, and whatever happens after that is bonus, and I will help you both through whatever you need me to. Alright?"

With a deep exhale, Alfred nodded, keep his eyes closed and mulling that over for a moment, "…Alright, Francis. Thanks."

"That is what I am here for, beau." The man hummed and took his glasses off, folding them and setting them down on the desk neatly, "You can lounge for a bit, if you would like, my next appointment should not be here for another five minutes or so."

"That'd be great," Alfred murmured, lacing his fingers over his chest and relaxing for a bit while Francis prepared the file for his next client and slipped Alfred's back into its labeled spot.

"…I don't really understand," Ivan was saying into his phone as he paced around his apartment, "I shouldn't worry, right? That is silly, I really shouldn't be worried, he is a nice person, so far, and is just teaching dancing, but-"

"Ivan, calm down," The steady, forever helpful voice of Francis tried to soothe him, "You are thinking about this too much."

Ivan clicked his tongue, "I know, but what else have I to think about? Work is boring, it is the same as it ever was, but suddenly a very attractive blond man who is teaching me how to dance has asked me out- Francis, no one has asked me out in years. Or, well, no one I might say yes to."

There was an intake of breath on the other line, and some scribbling sounds- Francis was taking notes again, "Cher, you realize what you have just said?"

"What, that my love life is abysmal?"

"Non, non, not that. You just said that work is boring. Boring, Ivan. Never have you ever described work like that to me before."

Pausing in his strides, Ivan thought about that a moment and shrugged a shoulder, "…I am distracted, like I said. It probably isn't a good thing."

"Ivan this is a glorious thing!" Francis elated, "I have had yet to find anything good enough to distract you from work, and we have been having meetings for the past six months, mon ami! Alfred is distracting you, dancing is distracting you, and it has only been two meetings, this is all very good!" There was some shifting, Francis moving the phone to sit between his cheek and shoulder, "Now, talk to me about it, I am sure you are feeling more than just distracted. What is it about this blond man that makes you feel like you might say yes to him?"

Ivan sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, where he could feel the line the over-starched collar had made on his skin, "…Well, you see him, you know what he is like."

"That I do. But what specifically attracts you? What about him is making you open up?"

"I don't know," The pale haired man said, nudging the edge of his desk with a sock-clad foot, "He seems happy a lot? And just generally nice, not like most people. And he hasn't forced me to do anything, he always gives me a choice. Or has so far. I like that, I think."

Francis was humming and making more scribbling sounds, "I see. That is good. Alfred is very nice, I agree. Anything else about him that you like?"

"Are you trying to get me to say he's hot, because I've already called him attractive, Francis."

There was laughter, and Ivan smiled a little, "Non, I was not trying to get you to say that, actually."

"Oh. Well. He is, though, so there."

"Well, alright. Good to know you both are in agreement, then."

Ivan blinked, "Wait, what?"

"Nothing!" Francis sang, "You were telling me why else you like him?"

Raising an eyebrow even though Francis couldn't see it, Ivan sighed and leaned against the desk, "Yes. I… hm. He is seeing you for some reason, but from what I know of him, he doesn't seem like he would need to. He seems so cheerful. I mean, I am in no position to make a solid character judgment on him yet, I hardly know him, but… I don't know. It seems odd that someone who smiles that much would be sad."

"Even the most cheerful people have their down days, Ivan," Francis supplied, "For every high, there is a low, usually."

"Hm. I assume that he must have many lows, then?"

"That is for me to know, and you to discover. You two should talk about it, maybe."

With a short laugh, Ivan rapped his fingers against the desk, "I don't know how well that will go."

"No one ever does, mon ami," Francis let out a wistful sigh, "Everything comes with a level a risk, some higher than others. Risks have to be taken to get anywhere. I think you two could do very well together, but you are both going to have to open yourselves up to the risk. So long as you please, I will be here for the both of you, so you are not heading into anything alone, and neither is he. Be aware of that."

Ivan nodded slowly, "…You are good at your job, Francis."

"It is why I get paid, cher." If they had been in person, Francis would have winked at him, but he settled instead for taking his glasses off and clicking his pen shut, "Now, you should probably get some rest. According to my schedules, Alfred's class is tomorrow, and you will need your energy. Sleep well."

"You too."

"Call me if you need me."

"As always."

When Ivan walked into the class the next evening, he wasn't tired, like he thought he might be, but excited- he'd practiced what Alfred had taught him last time, and had been thinking about what he might learn during the next class all day. So much so that he'd wasted office supplies (post-its) drawing stick figures and trying to figure out how to make movement happen.

(There were also a few of a certain stick figure with poofy pants and a weird hair sticking up. Those ended up on the monitor to his computer, and he felt like a rebel for some reason.)

That being the case, when he'd walked into class, he took a deep breath and let it out, feeling excited for what the day might bring.

Unfortunately, this made him feel a small wave of disappointment when Alfred wasn't there yet. There were some other dancers there, though, stretching and the like, and as he set his bag down on the bench with some of the other dancers' things, the one with the spiky hair approached, grinning.

"Hey there, new guy! How's it hangin'?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow at him, "…Fine, I suppose, if I'm gleaning the meaning of that word correctly."

The man made a snort of a laugh and leaned back a little, "Yeah, ya gleaned it correctly, or however you put it." He held out his hand, "The name's Mathais, just so you know. Since you, me, Gil, and Ludwig have the same kind of structure, we'll probably be doing some of the same stuff, so if you ever need any help with anythin', you can come to me or him for it."

Glancing at the man's hand, Ivan exhaled and shook it loosely, "I'm Ivan, thank you for the offer."

Mathais grinned and waved him off, "Hey, no problem, gotta look out for your own. I'm better at the break stuff than Lud is, though, so might wanna lean more on me for that."

"Break?"

"Oh come on, Mathais, you can't seriously be trying to get him in on break stuff yet- the dude's a toddler as far as dancing goes. You saw Al teach him the basics last week," A white-haired man called from where he was stretching, calling attention to him. He sat up a bit and flashed a toothy smile, "And there's no way you get to help him with break on your own, I'm the most awesome breaker this crew's got, and you know it."

With a laugh, Mathais raised a fist at him, "Shut up, Gil, or I'll show you a different kind of breaking!"

"Oh, like we've never heard that before!" Gil said, sticking his tongue out at him and chuckling as he continued to stretch, "Do your worst, spiky!"

Mathais would have, but he recalled Ivan, and waved a hand at Gil dismissively, "Don't mind him, Ivan, that's just Gilbert, he's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"But he's also a damn good breaker, so when you get to that, he can help you out, too."

"That's more like it!"

Ivan gave Mathais a look, "…That's all fine… but what is breaking?"

"Ah!" The spiky blond remembered himself again and nodded, "Right, my bad! Breaking is the typical thing you'll see when you look up break dancing, it's the fancy spinning on your head and hands and generally being really loosey-goosey- that's us, we do that. That's breaking."

Slowly, Ivan nodded, "Uh-huh."

At that moment, Alfred entered the classroom, looking tired and overburdened by his bag. He exhaled heavily and looked about the room a moment before finding Ivan, lighting up a little (which gave Ivan a little fluttery feeling), and setting his bag down, "Sorry I'm late, guys, the boss man felt like being extra nice with java duty today."

"He works at a coffee shop on Wednesdays," Mathais translated for Ivan, who shrugged a shoulder, "I understood, thank you."

Alfred smiled and rolled out his shoulders as he headed over to where Ivan and Mathais were, "So, Mathy-boy, were you terrorizing our newest member so soon? I thought he'd have at least another meeting before you and Gil got ahold of him."

Mathais grinned, "What can I say? You were late."

Laughing, Alfred nudged Mathais's arm with a fist, "Yeah, I know, I owe you all a run-through. And you're gonna get extra beat-work, if you don't watch yourself."

"Oh no, not beat-work," Gil crooned, taking one of Mathias's arms and making a horrified expression that was obviously fake.

Mathais leaned against him and put a hand to his forehead as if to swoon, "Anything but beat-work!"

Alfred couldn't keep a grin off his face as he shooed them away, "Yeah, yeah, we get it, wise guys. Practice for a minute before the run-through or your beat-work will turn into beat-ass, courtesy of Chef Jones."

Gilbert grinned, "Oh, my favorite."

Rolling his eyes, Alfred turned back to Ivan and smiled, "They're dumb, don't pay much attention to them- …What?" He asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow at the little chuckles Ivan was making, "What's so funny?"

Ivan pointed to him and then to the two friends practicing in the corner, "…You three… are very similar." He grinned as Alfred brought a hand to his chest in fake-shock.

"Why I never-! Never before have I been so offended in all my life," The blond said, huffing dramatically and crossing his arms as Ivan smiled at him, "I demand an apology."

With a chuckle, Ivan gave him a little bow, "My humblest apologies, good sir, I meant no offense."

"Indeed," Alfred said, unable to keep the smile off of his face any longer, "You're forgiven. Anywho, in all seriousness, what was Mathais telling you about? You looked confused when I walked in."

"Ah, well," Ivan straightened and made a face, "Breaking, I think."

Alfred rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips, "Oh, no. Be on the look-out, they'll try to recruit you. Did they explain it?"

"…Briefly."

"Good, cause you don't have to worry about anything like that for a while," the blond said, patting Ivan's arm, "So don't think on it much. You been practicing?"

"Briefly." Ivan smiled.

Alfred chuckled at him, "Well, good, I guess. We'll start there, then. Lizzy, go over the other steps with them again for me? Make sure they hit that turn sharper, I noticed a few people getting shaky last time."

The rest of that class involved Alfred teaching Ivan some other movements ("Now go like this- no, no, bend your knees, there you go, perfect") and some basic drills he could do for them before the end of the lesson approached.

"Alright, buddy, there's one more thing I've gotta teach you today, and it's important." Alfred said, wearing what Ivan mentally declared to be his 'Business Time' expression, "It's the foundation for a lot of other stuff in this class, so pay attention."

Ivan gave him a little nod, "I always do."

Alfred nodded back at him and exhaled, "Okay, so, there are a few different ways of moving a body that come into play a lot with this type of dancing. There's fluid motion, like the stuff I've taught you so far," He demonstrated with a smooth sway of his hips, "A very liquid, wobbly type of movement, like a curve. That's used a lot in more romantic types of dancing, like Antonio's, and like I explained before, we'll sometimes use if for the seductive factor. But!" Alfred held up a finger, "It comes into play when we're not thinking about it, too, and that's important. A good mix of styles makes for a better routine."

Keeping up mental notes, Ivan nodded again, and Alfred stood straight again.

"Along with that type of movement, there's its opposite: what I like to call block motion. It's exactly what it sounds like- sharp and distinct and one plus one equals two." He shifted to demonstrate, using mostly his arms and giving a little grin, "You see it a lot in dancers of this style, or they'll put it in music videos as the designated dance for a song, and that happens a lot in some of the Asian styles. I really like those, especially the Korean ones." He stood up again, "If you ever want to research some of those, I'd start with SHINee, and just kinda build your way around the idea with that."

Ivan tilted his head, "Uh-huh. Okay."

Alfred smiled, "It's not as hard as it might look. You know how, with fluid motion, you kind of just let it all hang out, and are really loosey-goosey about it?" Instinctively, he swayed, flowing around where he stood for a moment, "Like water, right? Well this type of move is harsher, tense. You have to solidify, turn to ice, move only what is supposed to be moved." He froze and continued the movement he'd been doing before with the new style, making Ivan's eyebrows raise.

"You see what I'm saying?"

The pale haired man brought a hand to his chin and looked at him, "…I think so. It seems like an odd concept, tensing muscles like that."

Alfred grinned and stood straight again, "Ah, but you see, that's what's so fun about anatomy." He gestured to his arm, "For any kind of movement to happen, one muscle or muscle group has to flex, and because of that, the other, its match, is relaxed." He flexed, tugging the sleeve of his shirt up to his shoulder, and pointing to the muscle in his arm, "That right there is the muscles being tense. That means that the muscles on the other side are loose so that the tension can happen. If I stop flexing this group," He straightened his arm out, "These muscles are now relaxed, but the ones on the other side are tense to make up for the change. It's a neat thing about the body, and makes dancing interesting." He put his arm down and hummed, "What I really like about it is that we can do fluid motion as easily as we do it. Or, well, it seems easy for us, but there are a lot of muscles that go into that, and with that kind of motion, they are constantly tensing and relaxing, which can sometimes cause strain."

The blond smiled, "The trick in dancing is to make a match of fluid and block motions, along with other types of moves that I'll show you later, that look cool and feel good, without bringing too much strain on the muscles. Block motion tends to be better for that, as it's a matter of this goes here, so this flexes, but fluid motion is a different animal, and that makes it cool."

Ivan nodded along to what Alfred was saying as he spoke, and where he was listening to what Alfred said, he couldn't help but be distracted by the man himself. Alfred was not the type of person that Ivan would expect to suddenly go into detail like that, and so well. He had the brief thought that if Alfred wasn't a dancer, he would make a good teacher. He certainly seemed enthusiastic enough about it.

One of the more mesmerizing things about him was that when he was speaking like that, teaching, his whole face lit up, like he really truly cared about every word he said. It was a type of enthusiasm that Ivan hadn't seen before, not in his office, or any other place he'd ever been.

It was downright refreshing.

When Alfred stopped speaking, he gave Ivan an odd look, "Did I lose you somewhere?"

For a moment, Ivan was confused, but then he realized that he'd been smiling like a loon, and quickly wiped the expression off of his face as he cleared his throat, "No, no, I heard all of it. Thank you, I think I understand it better now."

Alfred seemed to relax a bit, his smile seeming softer and relieved, "Oh good," He breathed, "I tend to rant about it sometimes, feel free to snap me out of it if I ever just kind of go off somewhere."

Ivan chuckled, "I wouldn't dream of it. You're a very good teacher, Alfred."

Flattered, Alfred gave a snort and did a kind of sniffley, wiping his nose gesture, cheeks flushing prettily, "Aw, shucks, thanks." He smiled a little and shrugged a shoulder, "I try to be. Anyway, anything you practice a bit before we go? Class's nearly over."

Blinking at him, Ivan looked over to the clock on the wall and frowned, "Oh. So it is."

"Ooh-hoo, forgetting to look at the time already?" Alfred grinned and nudged him, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying the class, Mr. Braginski."

Ivan scoffed and bat him away, smiling, "Don't get your hopes up, Mr. Jones, there are still three classes left."

"Plenty of time." The blonde said, going over to pack his stuff away, "By then, you'll be joining the others. I like Thai food, by the way." He put his bag over his shoulder and winked at Ivan, "For when I win the bet."

Ivan rolled his eyes at him, "We'll just see about that."


	6. Toxic

A/N: Hey, wow, it's been way too long since I updated this, but it's the summer, so I should be getting better? I just have to get back in the groove of writing, but I think I can do it. Anyway, sorry to give you an un-fun thing after waiting so long, but yeah. Enjoy?

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><p>'Fuck,' Alfred thought gruffly, 'It's going to be one of those days.'<p>

By that he meant that he'd woken up feeling like hell. Physically, it was because he'd overworked himself again, doing far too many hours at the gym the day before, and taking too many of the diuretics that Francis had said to use in moderation if he truly truly felt like he'd overdone it.

Because of that, he currently had to make his way to the bathroom as quickly as possible, wincing at the aches in his limbs from the workout, and cursing that they made the trek seem longer.

When he'd finally made it, and it was a really touch-and-go situation for a while, he managed to get there in time, and proceeded to feel like he was going to die.

Of course, as fate would have it, he didn't, and instead spent a long time getting acquainted with his toilet and the cold tile that surrounded it. Most of the morning was spent in this fashion, and he'd fallen asleep from exhaustion after emptying his body of pretty much everything in it, his arm curled around the base of the commode and his face pressed to the blessedly cool floor.

He was woken a while later by the agonizing chime of his cell phone, which rang from the next room in a shrill way that made his head throb. Groaning, Alfred managed to crawl his way over to the next room, his muscles protesting every movement, and pulled the annoying thing off of his bedside table after having missed the first call.

"Nngh… 'ello?"

"Alfred?" The concerned voice of Francis rang through the phone and only made Alfred feel a little worse, "Alfred, cher, what happened? You sound awful- did you overdo it again?"

With a weak chuckle, Alfred leaned himself against the bed and ran a hand down his face, "…you know me, Francis. Always managing to fuck myself up."

"Now you know that is not true, Alfred. Are you alright? Do you need me to come over?"

"No, I…" He shifted and winced at the ache his muscles threw at him, which incited a small wave of nausea, "…Y-yeah, that would probably be for the best…"

"I will be there in ten minutes- try to lie down and get some rest, okay?" There was movement on the other end; Francis getting ready to leave the office.

Alfred gave the barest hint of a smile, "Thanks Francis…"

"Of course. Sleep, Alfred."

He didn't really have much choice, for as soon as Francis hung up, Alfred turned his head and promptly fell asleep against the edge of his mattress, too tired to move and too weak to argue with sleep.

Francis found him like that when he arrived and examined him worriedly, but when he found that Alfred was asleep and without fever, he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"…You are going to be the death of me, cher."

Carefully, the Frenchman brushed some sweat-soaked hair off of Alfred's forehead before he lifted him up to lie on the bed. It seemed the dancer was sleeping off the drugs and exhaustion, so Francis went to work, making excuses for him at the restaurant and the studio, as well as making him something to eat and drink.

He'd also had to do a few appointments over the phone, but no one seemed to mind very much, bless them.

It wasn't until the late afternoon that Alfred woke up again, groaning and putting a hand over his eyes.

"Ah, he wakes," Francis said, taking a damp towel he'd prepared and handing it to the blonde, "How are you feeling, Alfred?"

Wiping his face with the towel, Alfred let out a deep sigh and wince, "…like I was hit by a car."

"Well, that is an improvement from last time, I suppose," Francis pondered, "That time it was a freight train."

"Great, yeah," Alfred muttered, "Slightly less shitty, fantastic."

With a hum, Francis put his hand on Alfred's forehead, "You don't have a fever this time, either, that's good. I think you are starting to recognize your limits."

"A little late."

Francis pinched Alfred's cheek, which managed to get a weak chuckle out of him before he asked, "Oh yeah, Francis, how did you know to call me?"

"The restaurant called and said you were late for your morning shift," The older man scratched his chin and shrugged, "I told them I would call them once I had touched base with you- they called you a few times before they called me." Francis waved Alfred's phone at him, "Rodriech was wonderfully patient; I explained that you would not be able to make it in today and he said to take as long as you need. He is counting this as one of your sick days."

Alfred relaxed back against his pillow and sighed, "…He should fire me."

"He likes you too much for that, cher," Francis said, smiling and patting Alfred's arm, "You have charmed him, and just about everyone else at that restaurant."

"That shouldn't make a difference. I can't do work if I'm constantly laid up from being stupid- my job could go to someone who can actually be there when he says he's going to." Alfred frowned and put the towel over his eyes.

Francis hummed, "You think you don't deserve the job?"

"Yes."

"Then why not quit?"

There was a sigh from underneath the towel, "…you know I hate quitting, Francis."

Francis nodded, "I do." He nudged Alfred's arm, "And so does Rodriech. He knows you are trying your best, and he respects that. You are not giving up, and neither is he."

Alfred sat still for a minute, and when he pulled the towel from his eyes, Francis smiled at him, "Rodriech is rooting for you, Alfred, just like I am."

With a heavy sigh, Alfred pulled the towel from his face, "…I know you are. And that's great when you're here or on the phone, but I've got that…" He cringed, "That damn voice yapping away at me nearly 24/7. It's… ugh." He shut his eyes tightly, only to open them in surprise when Francis took his hand.

When he looked at the man, he was met with a worried expression, "…Alfred. Is the medicine I prescribed not helping at all?"

Alfred blinked at him, frozen a moment, before letting out a breath and a slight chuckle, "…W-well doc, that depends on what you mean by wor-"

"Alfred. Please." Francis said sharply, making Alfred shut his mouth again.

The tone shift was a bit surprising, but Alfred exhaled and nodded, "…It doesn't do much, yeah. It's… kinda like turning down the volume, but instead of just turning down the volume of the voice, it turns down the volume of everything. I can't focus."

Francis murmured something to himself before nodding, "…I see. In that case, would you mind if I took you off of that prescription?"

Alfred paused a moment. "…Francis, can I be completely honest?"

"Of course you can," the man said as if it was the clearest thing in the world.

With the permission, Alfred took a breath and closed his eyes, "…I don't like the drugs, any of them. I don't want any. But I feel like I need them. Like, 'Oh, if I take this, it'll make me normal'. 'If I take this, I'll get better'. But I never do, Francis." He stopped and squeezed Francis's hand, "No matter what it is, I always fall back into my habits, and that voice is always there. The medicine never fixes it, it never does, and I'm…" He swallowed and said in a smaller voice, "…And I'm afraid it never will. I just…" He shook his head and put a hand over his eyes, "…I'm so_ sick_ of this, Francis. Every time I think there's improvement, something like this happens, and…"

By this point, Alfred's shoulders were starting to shake from trying not to cry, and Francis could see his lip tremble against what he was trying to say.

"…and I'm j-just- I'm not brave enough to- to really stop it, you know?"

Francis exhaled and pat Alfred's hand, holding it between both of his own, "…I hear you, Alfred." He shifted to lean closer to Alfred's face, "But… can you look at me a moment, cher?"

Alfred shook his head, trying to hold back the sobs that were escaping from him, and Francis put his hand against Alfred's cheek. "Please?"

With a few deep breaths and a good deal of sniffling, Alfred lifted his hand to look at Francis, and the blonde man smiled at him, "…It's okay. Listen, you are the bravest person I have ever met, and I mean that sincerely, you are."

Alfred tried to roll his eyes and look away from him, and Francis turned his face back towards him, "I mean it. No one else I know could go through what you go through and still be able put on a smile for everyone, let alone inspire people- and trust me, love, you inspire people." Francis smiled again, "Your class does not know, yes? You have not told them, but they know if you miss a class or are late, that you have a reason?"

At Alfred's nod, Francis continued, "That is because they know you. The honest, hardworking, strong and stubborn Alfred F. Jones, who never breaks a promise and always does his best. That is who you are, Alfred." Francis pat Alfred's cheek, "This is who you are. You are someone who inspires the faith of strangers- who inspires a man who argued with his doctor about the idea of dancing to go out and buy new clothes and dancing equipment."

Alfred's eyes widened a little, "Yes, Ivan did not want to take your class, he did not want to dance at all. But he met you one time, cher, once! And it was enough to get him motivated. You are an inspiration, Alfred, and it is because you are you. Now this voice," Francis ran a finger along Alfred's forehead, "this voice is cocky. It does not know just who it is going up against." The blond smiled, "When you mess with Alfred F. Jones, you enter a losing battle."

When Alfred started to smile a little, Francis picked up the towel and wiped the tears from his friend's face, "Now, Alfred, I do not think that some voice is going to get the better of you. In fact, I know that it will not. Because I know that you are going to beat this." He smiled, "You are the one who can beat the odds, cher. You are Alfred F. Jones, the one patient of mine who has managed to be the main recipient of my house-calls," he pinched Alfred's cheek, "and my biggest overall improvement."

Alfred sniffled a little more before smiling weakly and sitting up enough to give Francis a tight hug, "…Thank you, Francis."

The man exhaled and hugged him just as tightly, "My pleasure, cher. Do not give up on me just yet, okay?"

"Okay."

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><p>"Hello lovelies!"<p>

Was the cry that welcomed the dance class next time Alfred walked in the room, a huge smile on his face and skip in his step.

Gilbert whistled, "Ooh, sounds like somebody got laid!" That got both laughs and some cheers and whistles around the room.

Alfred laughed and pointed a finger at Gilbert, "Close, but no cigar! I'm just having a good day- A good week, really."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Ivan said as he walked over, smiling a bit, which made the day a little better, "I had heard you might be feeling a little off today, but it seems that you are well."

The blonde smiled, thinking that Francis must have mentioned that little bit to him (but of course he'd never tell anything else, it was his code), "Better than well, Ivanski," he gave Ivan's shoulder a pat, "I'm grand. Now then, where did we leave off in our lesson? Lizzy, can you take the class again…"

And everything fell into place the way classes run by Alfred F. Jones usually do.


	7. Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year

First of all, I'm so so sorry for taking so long, I've got no excuse. But, here's a new chapter.

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><p>"Class, we're going to try things a little differently today," Alfred said from where he sat on the floor in front of his dance crew, who'd taken the floor as well to be respectful of their teacher.<p>

"Different like how?" Asked Elizaveta, her head cocked to one side, "We haven't gotten through the routine you gave us yet."

Alfred nodded, "I know, I know. But you guys have been working hard at that, and I was thinking that since I've still got some more things to teach Ivan before he's caught up with us, why don't you guys just take a break today and help me with the lesson for him, hm?"

There were some murmurs around the room, and Ivan lifted a hand, "…With all due respect, Alfred, I would not want them to stop their activities because of me."

"Nonsense, it's no trouble," Alfred said, crossing his arms, "It's a break! You guys don't even know what I'm going to be teaching him yet!"

Ludwig cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Alfred when he had his attention, "…If I remember correctly, the only lesson that you typically want to involve the whole class in is the-"

"Oh!" Feliciano said suddenly from next to him, "It's the pairs class, isn't it? You're going to teach him how to dance in pairs!"

Ludwig nodded as Alfred rocked back with a groan of defeat, "Aw, dang it! The surprise is ruined!"

He sat forward again and grinned, "You got it, we're doing the pairs class."

There was a mix of cheers and groans from the class, and Alfred laughed heartily, "That's right, my children! The dreaded evil pairs class!" He hunched his shoulders and curled his hands into claws, "You shall all be forced once again to participate in the ritual passed down from class to class- the awkward, awful, unfortunate and helpful pairs class!"

Elizaveta huffed, "Alfred, we've all been through this already, do we really have to do it again? We know how do dance in pairs well enough…"

"Well, excluding Feli over there," Mathais corrected, and Gilbert snorted next to him in agreement.

For a moment, Feliciano looked a little upset, but as Ludwig cleared his throat pointedly, Alfred spoke up, "Or he just doesn't have the right partner. Last I remember, Gil, you kicked Lizzy in the shin last time we did partner dances." He grinned at his friend, who sputtered, "Hey, that was one time!"

"Hurt like hell, though!" Elizabeta agreed, and there was some laughter from the group.

Alfred nodded, "See, there you go, it seems like a lot of you could use some help with this. So. Pairs dancing. You guys can start with whatever you like, but makes sure you do a three-step, a four-step, and a two-step. You can even practice line-dancing if you want, just hit all the points. And as usual, I don't care who partners up with who, or which one leads." He stood up and clapped his hands, "To action, all! Get your partners and let's get to it."

Everyone stood up quickly and rushed to find their partners, while Ivan stood slowly and cocked his head as Alfred approached him. "…I gather, then, that you are to be my partner?"

With a smile, Alfred nodded, "Righto, friendamigo. Actually works out a bit since our heights match up well." He rocked back on his heels a bit, "So, I know you said you didn't really have any dance training, but have you ever learned any kind of formal dancing before? You know, for fancy parties or whatever? It comes in handy for any kind of partner dancing, so we use it here, too."

Ivan shook his head, "No. I don't typically attend, ah, 'fancy parties'." He copied a move he'd seen Alfred do before and used some air quotes, which made him smile.

"Ah, well. It's not too hard to get down, in fact it's really wicked easy, as far as steps go," Alfred said, shrugging a shoulder, "It's working with a partner at all that's the slightly difficult part, because you have to work together. When you're dancing on your own you have full control of the movement, and you know exactly what to do when, and how. When with a partner, you only control half of the equation, so it's more challenging, and a nice surprise sometimes." He grinned, "It's something we try to play on, here, because if there's anything cooler than our type of dancing, it's doing it with multiple people."

Nodding to show he understood, Ivan put his hands on his hips, "Alright, it's fairly important, then. Where do we begin?"

Alfred chuckled, "At the beginning, of course. Posture." He walked around Ivan slowly and looked him over, "You seem like the type that won't have a problem with it. It's a kind of military-esque type of thing while at the same time being relaxed. So, back straight," he put his hand at the small of Ivan's back to move him a bit, "shoulders back and relaxed," he tapped each shoulder, and Ivan moved accordingly, "feet together at about forty-five degrees…" He came back to face Ivan and stuck his foot between Ivan's, "and viola."

He smiled and took his foot back, "It might feel kind of weird at first, but with formal dancing, it's a must, so it's step one. We actually kinda make fun of it sometimes in different routines, but right now it's real serious and important."

Ivan nodded and stayed where he was, "I see."

With a little hum, Alfred took Ivan's hands from him, "Now there's positioning with a partner." He put one of Ivan's hands on his own hip, and cupped his other hand, "The lead guides the other person by their hip and hand, or just their hands sometimes but that's a different dance, and so that's where their hands go. To proposition someone to dance, it's polite to hold out a hand to a prospective partner and just ask them, but we won't have to bother with that for now."

Exhaling carefully, Ivan nodded again and tried to keep his touch against Alfred's hip as light as possible, though Alfred noticed and gave a little snort, "Ah, newbies."

He curled his fingers around the ones Ivan had on his hip to tighten the touch, and raised an eyebrow at him, "Relax, it's fine to touch me, I'm not gonna bite you. That's for later." He offered him a little wink and pat his hand again, "The key to this is not being afraid of the other person, and having a mutual trust thing going on. I trust you not to bruise my hip, and to lead me along, and you trust me to follow you and let you know if you've done something wrong. Okay? So trust me."

Though Ivan could feel his cheeks heat up, he swallowed and muttered, "Alright. I trust you."

"Do you, now?" Alfred asked, smiling a bit, "In that case, take a step forward for me."

Ivan blinked, but did as he was asked, moving forward just as Alfred moved back. When they were still, Alfred nodded once, "Good. Now, you're the leader here, so I'm going to tell you the steps to take, and you lead me there, alright?"

When Ivan seemed to understand, Alfred squeezed his hand, "Trust me, we'll be fine. Take six-inch steps, put your feet together, and I'll move with you. Step forward, meet your other foot. Again." He said, and Ivan did what he was asked, so Alfred smiled, "Now, don't anticipate anything, okay? I'm gonna switch it a little, but just listen and go with me."

"Right, together. Good. Back, together. Left, together. Forward, together," Alfred said, and they moved in a small square.

Alfred smiled at him, "Hey, you're a natural. You didn't look at your feet or anything."

"I've heard it's rude to look at anywhere other than a partner while dancing," Ivan commented with a little shrug, to which Alfred laughed.

"That's true! But usually I have to teach people that," he said, pleased, "What we just did is a four-step type of formal dancing. Now, what really makes that dancing is a slight turn during the steps that will lead into a small circle. I'll do the turning part, so just continue with me when I do."

They tried it, and Ivan managed it very well, enough that Alfred was happy, and had them continue enough so that he could stop giving instructions. As they danced in their corner of the room, the other members of the class alternated between dancing with each other and gossiping about them, though it fell on deaf ears.

"You've got a real knack for this," Alfred said, hand still curled around Ivan's, "Color me impressed."

Ivan hummed, "Is that a shade of red, do you think?" And Alfred laughed, ducking his head just so and giving it a slight shake, "Man, if you figure that one out, let me know."

He exhaled and gave Ivan a smile, which the other man couldn't help but to return. It was nice, he thought, dancing around with Alfred and just talking and laughing. He felt good. For the first time in a while.

They enjoyed the moment, just exchanging some small talk for a bit before Alfred realized he should probably teach Ivan something else.

"Got some other stuff to show you before we're done today," He said as he stopped them, "The next thing we'll learn is kind of like that first one, just-," he paused for a moment and leaned against Ivan a little more, "Oh. Um."

Ivan held him up without problem, though the dazed look on Alfred's face made him worry, "Alfred? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no, I'm, uh," Alfred put a hand against his forehead and tried to lean away from Ivan to stand firmly on his own, "I'm fine, happens all the time, just a head-rush, I'll be…"

He started to form the word 'okay', but before the sound came out, his eyes fluttered closed and he fainted. Ivan was close enough to catch him before he fell, reflexes quick even though he was surprised, "Alfred?!"

Other members of the class had stopped now, and were tuned in to what was happening, some coming over and others just gasping.

Mathias and Gilbert helped Ivan move Alfred over to the bench at the back of the room to lay him down on, and Gilbert asked heatedly as they walked, "What happened?"

"He… We were about to try a different dance and he looked like he got dizzy, then…" Ivan gestured to Alfred's now unconscious form, his face paler now than it had looked just minutes earlier. Elizaveta appeared at his side with a water bottle and a towel, feeling Alfred's forehead and frowning, "He doesn't feel feverish…" She put the towel under his head and pressed the cool bottle to either of his cheeks, "My best guess is that he's either dehydrated or anemic… He's not outwardly sick, and dancing's never hurt him before, so it's a diet thing, I think."

She frowned, "But… he knows the right diet for a dancer…"

Ivan shook his head and moved away from where Alfred lay, biting his lip and pulling his phone out of his pocket. Mathias tilted his head at him, "Dude, he's only fainted. If it's a food thing, no need to call the paramedics."

With a hand raised in dismissal, Ivan pressed one of his speed dials, "That's not who I'm calling."


	8. Juke Box Hero

"Francis?" Ivan said desperately into his receiver.

He heard the shuffle of Francis sitting up, "Yes, it's me. Ivan, what's wrong?"

Ivan took a breath and looked over to where Alfred was still out cold on the bench, "…Alfred and I are in class. He's… fainted."

Francis paused on the other end before a great, tired sigh escaped him, "Oh, no."

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Ivan," the other man started carefully, "I'm not at leisure to discuss Alfred's issues with you, that's policy. But I can tell you that if I were his mother he would be eating much better than he is now." He paused again, then added, "Actually, if I were his mother he'd be in a lot better shape over all."

Ivan frowned, "Lizzy said that he was either dehydrated or anemic."

There was a noise of surprise on the other end, "Ah, well. It's most likely both. He might not have eaten today, it sometimes happens. When he wakes up, make him eat something, no matter how much he may protest."

Leaning against the wall of the studio, Ivan sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, "…So he'll be alright?"

"As alright as he can be after something like that, yes. This has happened to him before, though I'll admit I don't recall it ever happening in class. Check his breathing and heart rates, and if all else fails get smelling salts if you have to, but wake him up and get food in him, otherwise he'll probably have to go to a hospital."

"…Okay," Ivan managed, still a bit shell-shocked, "Thank you, Francis."

"Of course, cher. Now, Ivan, listen carefully to me right now," he continued, and Ivan paid close attention when he said, "This is not your fault. It is no one's fault. The issues Alfred sees me for are to blame for this, and I have no doubt he'll be terribly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, which doesn't help. He and I will talk about it, but before then, I want you to discuss it with him. It will make the both of you feel better. Do you understand?"

Slowly, Ivan took a breath and nodded, though Francis couldn't see it, "…I understand. I'll… try that. Thank you."

"And call me if anything else happens, or if either of you need me."

"As always."

"Good luck, Ivan," Francis said, care in his voice before he hung up.

Ivan closed his eyes and pocketed his phone again before walking back over to where Alfred was. Three faces looked at him questioningly.

"Well?" Elizaveta asked.

"I've been told that he'll be alright. When he wakes up, he just needs food and drink," Ivan relayed, and the group exhaled their relief. "Thank God," Gilbert murmured, and Mathias clapped him on the shoulder in agreement.

Clearing his throat a little, Ivan shifted to sit on the bench near Alfred's head, taking the water bottle Elizaveta had brought between his hands, "For now, I think it would be best if everyone continued until the end of the hour- for Alfred's sake. He's most likely to be embarrassed by this, I think."

Elizaveta looked at him, then nodded her head slowly, "…Yes, you're probably right. Well, then, in that case." She stood up and turned towards the rest of the class, "Alfred will be alright. For now, we keep on like nothing's happened, you hear?"

When she received responses in the positive, Elizaveta nodded and turned to Ivan again, "Look after him for us."

He nodded, and Mathias and Gilbert each gave him pats of thanks and comfort as they joined the group again with Elizaveta.

With them gone, Ivan noticed his hands shaking slightly around the water bottle, and he closed his eyes to calm down for a moment before looking at Alfred again.

The face that normally seemed so happy looked almost odd with the sickly pallor that covered it now, and not quite peaceful in whatever kind of rest he was getting. It made Ivan sad to see him like that, and he exhaled before running his fingertips gently along Alfred's forehead.

His skin was warm to the touch, but not hot, like Elizaveta had said, and there was some remaining condensation from where she had pressed the bottle to Alfred's face. Ivan hummed and wiped it away with the edges of the towel, careful not to move Alfred much as he did so.

After a few more minutes, just a about ten minutes before class ended, Alfred woke up, groaning and pressing a hand to his face.

"Alfred?" Ivan asked quietly, and he saw the man stiffen where he lay.

"…Ivan. Um." He let out a harsh exhale and covered his face with his fists, "Crap. Did I, uh…" He swallowed, "Did I pass out?"

Patting his shoulder, Ivan nodded and offered him the water bottle, "I'm afraid so, yes. Elizaveta claims it was because you are dehydrated, or anemic."

With another exhale, Alfred removed his hands from his face and took the offered water bottle as he carefully tried to sit up, "Well, she's not wrong."

Once he was seated properly and leaning back against the wall, he opened the water and took a hearty sip while Ivan said, "I talked to Francis."

Alfred didn't seem very surprised, and replaced the cap on the water bottle with a shake of his head, "I expected as much." He wiped his lips and sighed, "…What did he tell you?"

"Not very much," Ivan admitted, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, "Just that this has happened before, and your eating habits could use work."

The man next to him snorted, "That's an understatement, but okay. Good." He nodded to the class, "I see you guys kept them on track, thanks for that. What do they know?"

Shrugging his shoulder, Ivan made a non-committal noise, "Elizaveta assured them that you would be alright, and since none of us really know the cause of your fainting, they don't either."

Though he looked a bit pained, Alfred nodded and shut his eyes, running a hand through his hair and sighing again, "…I suppose that's the best I could hope for, all things considered." After a moment, he lifted his head and gave Ivan a weak smile, "You probably want an explanation, right?"

Ivan looked at him silently for a few seconds, then shook his head and looked back to the class, "Not if you don't want to tell me, no."

Alfred's barely-there smile fell, and he considered that for a bit, something in him doing a happy flip at the possibility of choice, and Ivan's understanding. It was strange, he thought, that Ivan seemed so calm- when he'd fainted at other jobs before (once in the coffee shop, twice at his job in the restaurant), everyone had freaked out and demanded to know exactly what was wrong and why and how and what medication he was on and if it would happen again. Even though they were kind about it and they made some changes to accommodate him (bless them), they always forced the information out of him, which always made him feel terrible and like he was being such a burden for having problems.

But Ivan seemed to get it. Maybe it was because he saw Francis, too, but he respected Alfred's wishes more than other people did. He understood that he might not always want to talk about it and that he would be ashamed about it.

It was… really refreshing. Even though he'd just fainted, it kind of made him feel better to have that choice and know that there was someone nearby who understood.

He sat back and toyed with the bottle in his hands for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of telling him or keeping it to himself, but before he'd reached a conclusion, Ivan spoke up.

"I'd like to take you to dinner, if that is alright with you."

Surprised, Alfred cocked his head at him and tried not to get too hopeful, "Um, you're a bit early there, man. You've got a class or two before-"

"Forget the bet," Ivan said quietly, "We can change the wager, if you really want to keep that going, but right now…" He shook his head, "Right now I'd like it if we could share a meal and talk. About anything," he added with a shrug of one shoulder.

Now Alfred was trying to keep from blushing, though part of him remembered Ivan was probably doing this so that he had food in his system, and he gave a little smile at the idea.

He shifted his weight to lean against Ivan's shoulder and sigh dramatically, "Well, if you insist. It's been a while since I've had a proper date." He fluttered his lashes at Ivan, who couldn't help but return his smile.

"It's the same for me."

Alfred was about to make some playful retort when Elizaveta cleared her throat from the other side of the room, "Ahem! Alfred!"

He and Ivan looked over at her, and Alfred chirped, "Yes, dear?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, though he could see the worry behind her expression, "You doing okay over there?"

Smiling, Alfred gave her two thumbs up, "It's all good in the hood, Lizzy. I'll be fine, just need to get some food in my system." He pat his stomach, then tapped a hand to Ivan's chest, "Big guy over here's takin' care of me, I'll be right as rain in no time."

When she saw Alfred's smile and Ivan's nod of agreement, Elizaveta nodded and turned to the class, "Well, there you have it, everyone. He's fine. Hour's up, though, so got any homework for us, Alfie?"

"Just keep working on the routine- sharpen up stuff, get on point, and if you do find that you're still having partner issues, you can work on it next class." Alfred said, putting on his teacher voice, "Other than that, I want you guys to spend at least 30 minutes or so just kind of grooving along to some songs- we've been hitting the blocks real hard, so unwind a little and get loosey-goosey before next class, okay?"

Everyone made noises of agreement, and it was good to see that the atmosphere of the class didn't change despite what had happened.

As everyone packed up, Alfred and Ivan stood, and Alfred (after happily finding that he didn't have a head rush) nudged Ivan, "So. Where exactly are we headed, fella?"

Ivan hummed as he grabbed both his bag and Alfred's, "Just a little place nearby, if that's fine."

"Yeah, that's cool," Alfred nodded and put his hands in his pockets a little nervously, "We taking a car, or?"

"Yes, I'm parked outside. Did you drive here?"

With a little exhale, Alfred shook his head, "No, I took the subway. I usually either do that, catch a cab, or ride my bike here. So no worries about leaving anything."

"Well, that's good," Ivan agreed, leading him out to where he was parked, "You live nearby, then?"

Alfred shrugged, "Close enough, yeah. Got a place a couple stops over. You?"

"It's a ten or fifteen minute drive, maybe."

They walked along the curb outside of the building for a ways until Ivan pointed out his sleek black car where it sat along the street. Alfred whistled his appreciation and reached for it reverently, "Wow, sweet ride, man. You must be making some kind of green to have a car like this."

Smiling slightly, Ivan unlocked it and put their bags in the backseat, "You could say that, I suppose. It's an office job, but it pays well enough, so."

"Yeah, no kidding." Alfred murmured, looking around at the inside once he was in and buckled. He kicked his feet in the space availible, "The room in here is excellent, too. And these seats! They've probably got that wicked awesome warming feature to them, don't they? I bet they do. Man. Hey, what's the mileage on this thing?" He paused as he noticed Ivan giving him a look, and seemed to remember himself, "Ah. Sorry, I'm a bit of a car fan, even if I don't have one."

He didn't mention that he rambled when he was nervous, though from the little smile on Ivan's face, he seemed to get it.

Ivan shook his head as he started the car, "It's fine, I don't mind at all."

Though he said that, Alfred felt just the slightest bit self-conscious, and he slouched in the comfy seat a bit as Ivan pulled away from the building.

'Please,' he thought to himself like a command, 'don't make this awkward.'


	9. CrushCrushCrush

At first, Alfred wanted to hit himself for even thinking the word awkward, because it must have somehow jinxed the whole thing like it always did (thank you for nothing, Murphy).

For the first part of the drive, there was just a silence, and it wasn't one of those comfortable 'oh, I'm enjoying your presence' type of silences, either- no, this was a pure, awkward first date silence. He hadn't dealt with one in a while, and now that it was upon him again, he had a moment of internal panic trying to think of something- anything! –to say, but his brain hit a wall, and he couldn't think of anything but the nice car and the lines on the road and the busy streets around them. Of course, nothing that would make for good conversation, seeing as Ivan saw all of these things daily, and there was no need to state the obvious.

He was about to just claim to be too tired for going out after all when Ivan cleared his throat quietly and put on the radio at a low volume, where a catchy little pop song was playing. Alfred knew the song, so he hummed a little to it and told himself to relax. When he noticed the station Ivan had turned to, he smiled.

"Pop station, eh?"

Ivan glanced at him shortly before looking back to the road, "Yes. I recall you saying something about listening to things similar to what is danced to in class, so." There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, and it calmed Alfred down significantly.

He curled his legs up into the chair with him and exhaled against his knees, "'s good to see you're doing your homework, then. Keep that up and you'll have an A+ in no time."

"Oh?" Ivan chuckled a little under his breath, "And what exactly is my grade now?"

Grinning, Alfred shrugged a shoulder, "Eh, I'd give you a solid B."

"That seems a bit low, don't you think?" Ivan asked, a playful tone to his voice that was encouraging.

"Well," Alfred began, "It's passing, you know? You're still a little stiff around the shoulders, there, bucko." He pointed at Ivan and leaned over a little, "Know what you outta do for that? Find a music player, or just jam something from a good set of speakers if your neighbors are down for that, and let loose. Like, take a good half an hour or more and just go nuts with wherever the music takes you."

Setting his shoulders back straight at the mention, Ivan gave a small shake of his head, "I don't think I'm the type for that."

Alfred gave a snort, "Oh come on, _everyone_'s the type for it. You know when you're just listening to something and you can't help tap your toes or hum along or bop your head? That's what I'm talking about man, but with a little more oomph." He drummed his fingers against his knees to the beat of the song playing, "It's just about taking the more up-beat songs and applying the 'go with the flow' theory. When you've got something with a quick beat, or with a pattern of lyrics that's easy to move to, it's just a matter of not thinking and letting your body go along with whatever it hears."

He rested his chin against his knees and smiled a little, "It's actually really freaking fun. If ever I just get really really stressed out or out of sorts or something and I can't figure a way out of it, I just plug in and let loose for a while and after I'm done, nothing seems as bad. Clears your head."

When he'd finished talking, he looked over at Ivan to find him staring at him with an enlightened expression, which, okay, he'd plenty of with the whole teaching people dancing and dance theory thing, but this was different.

"Okay, what?"

Ivan shook his head as he pulled over to park, "Nothing. I think I understand why Francis assigned me to your class specifically."

Alfred blinked at him, "Why's that?"

He opened his mouth to answer, then looked over to the shops on the street they'd parked on and exhaled, "…I'll explain it over dinner?"

Looking over to where Ivan had brought them, Alfred nodded, "Sure, uh… Oh." He laughed a little and shook his head when he realized what the place was, "Wow, I. Geez, you know how to pick 'em, man. This is some kind of weird freaking fate-thing, god, what the_ hell_." He shook his head again and opened his door as Ivan gave him a worried look.

"Um. Would you prefer we go somewhere else?"

Alfred smiled big and bright at him, "No way! Dude, you've got no idea, this is exactly what I need right now."

Confused, Ivan got out from his side and met Alfred on the curb, where his blonde companion was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement to enter the café they stood outside of.

"Man I should have known we were coming here, I guess I wasn't paying enough attention to the roads and stuff," He said mostly to himself as he checked the time on his phone, "Damn, and it's his shift too, this is perfect."

Ivan raised an eyebrow at him as he opened the door, "…I assume you're going to tell me why this is so exciting?"

With a smirk, Alfred walked in and shrugged a shoulder, "Maybe if you're good." He then caught the eye of the barista and grinned widely, "Damn, never mind, I've been had already."

"Wha-"

"Alfred!" The blonde called, smiling brightly and moving from behind the counter to give Alfred warm hug that nearly lifted him off the ground. "It's so good to see you!"

Alfred couldn't help but laugh and hug him back, ruffling his hair up fondly, "You too, man."

The man patted his hair back to the way it was before adjusting his glasses and hitting Alfred's shoulder, "What gives? Not showing up here for forever then appearing without warning? No call or anything?"

"Well it was a kind of a spur of the moment thing, man," Alfred said, shoving the guy a little, "I'm here with someone, so I didn't come by just so you can see my pretty face."

The guy rolled his eyes, "Yeah, cause that's why I wanna see you." He looked over to the doorway where Ivan was still standing and made a sound of recognition, "Is this who you're here with?"

Alfred nodded and stepped next to Ivan, "Yep!" He looked to Ivan, who seemed a little uncomfortable, and gestured to the blonde, "Ivan, this is my brother Matthew. Matt, this is Ivan, he's in my dance class."

"No kidding," Matthew said with a quiet smile, "I've seen you around here before, nice to meet you." He held out a hand.

Relaxing a little, Ivan took Matthew's hand and smiled, "I knew you looked familiar, it's good to meet you, too."

"Wait, do you come here often or something?" Alfred said, looking between Matthew and Ivan curiously.

Ivan shrugged, "On the mornings that I have time before work, yes."

With a nod, Matthew started to walk back towards the counter, "Small world. Sometimes he's here during my shift, which is why I recognized him." When he was behind the register, he exhaled, "So, can I get you your regular, then?"

"Yes, thank you," Ivan nodded and asked Alfred at the same time Matthew did, "And for you?"

Alfred looked between them and laughed, "Wow, yeah, okay I totally needed this." He leaned against the counter and looked up at the menu where it hung, "Uh, get me a pumpkin spice latte, an apple crumb muffin, and a veggie Panini."

Matthew nodded, "You're gonna love that latte, let me tell you. Paying together?"

As Alfred made an uncomfortable face, Ivan pulled out his wallet and waved it in response, to which Matthew exhaled and totaled it, "Alright, that comes to $23.60."

While Ivan paid, Alfred fiddled with the coins in the tip jar anxiously, only resisting the temptation to start spinning them when Matthew waved his hand away from it and handed Ivan the receipt.

"I'll call you guys over when it's ready, okay?"

"Thank you," Ivan said, leading Alfred over to a very comfortable looking couch near the window of the café.

He took one end and Alfred took the other, each facing inward so that they could talk, and when they were seated, Alfred murmured, "So, uh, I can pay you back for this next class or something?"

Ivan rested his arm against the back of the couch and propped his cheek against his fist before giving Alfred an odd look, "Now, I'm not entirely versed in dating etiquette, but I am fairly certain that's not how it works. You don't have to worry about it."

As though he'd forgotten that it was a date, Alfred flushed and ran a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, "…Yeah, okay, I guess. Thanks for this."

"Anytime," Ivan shrugged a shoulder, "Speaking of, shall we make new terms for that bet of ours?"

Alfred looked at him and couldn't help but to laugh a little, "Yeah, alright, sure. Let's see." He looked around the café as he thought, "I'll bet you…" He bit his lip and really thought about it before he snapped his fingers and pointed at Ivan, "I'll bet you a movie marathon that you'll be in the next three classes."

Raising an eyebrow, Ivan smiled at him, "Movie marathon?"

"Yeah!" Alfred grinned and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged, "Like, we'll find a good series to watch and just zoom through it. Like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars or something."

Ivan contemplated it, "Alright that sounds fair. I suppose the actual movies will be determined later, then?"

"Uh-huh."

The taller man shifted a little and nodded, "Okay. Now, if I don't continue for the next three classes," He looked briefly at the wall the couch was up against, then smiled, "then I'll still take you out to dinner, but-" he held up a finger, "you'll have to wear a suit."

Alfred groaned, "Dude, seriously? I don't know how you live wearing those all the time…" He hung his head for a moment before straightening out and nodding, "Alright, you've got yourself a deal."

Ivan smiled, and Alfred remembered something with a gasp, "Oh, hey, didn't you say you were going to tell me why Francis made you take my class specifically?"

"Ah," Ivan nodded, then tilted his head and thought about it, "I did say that, but…" He gave Alfred a mischievous look, "I think we'll save that for a little later, actually."

"Aw, come on, man, spill," Alfred pleaded, bouncing a little where he sat, "I know you're in to loosen up, Francis was able to tell me that much, but you could have gone to other classes for it- what's the secret?"

Just as Ivan smirked and looked like he was going to make a witty retort, Matthew called their order from the counter. He exhaled and pat Alfred's knee as he got up, "Remind me later."

Alfred huffed at Ivan's back as he walked away, but couldn't ignore the little tingles that went down his leg (even though he'd been the one to give the 'it's okay to touch me' speech, good job Al).

Things seemed to be going well , and he was comfortable, actually. He was in a place made for comfort his brother was nearby, and the flirting and talking with Ivan didn't have him tripping over his own tongue (much).

So, of course, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

While Ivan carried a tray with their orders on it, Alfred thought of a hundred different ways this could possibly go wrong, and hated himself for it. It was a first date, damn it. He just needed to calm down and not think so negatively. He knew that. It wasn't easy, but he knew the theory.

He took a deep breath as Ivan set the tray down on the small table that sat in front of the couch, and found that the smell of food and coffee helped to relax him and make his stomach growl loudly.

Ivan smiled at him as he put his hands over his stomach, "I thought that might be the case." He picked up Alfred's drink to hand to him, as well as his muffin, "Dig in."

Though he felt odd about it, Alfred did as asked and made a pleased noise against the lip of the coffee cup in his hand after his first sip.

Ivan had taken up his own food and was currently balancing a plate with a bagel on it against his leg while holding up his own coffee cup. Between bites of his muffin, Alfred pointed to the cup and asked, "Whassat?"

With a smile, Ivan swirled the drink around in its cup, "Americano." He took a sip while Alfred wrinkled his nose.

"Ah. Black coffee, right?" He shook his head, "I tried that once, thought it was more manly or whatever to drink it black, but it was a double dose of way too much caffeine and not nearly enough sugar for me." He held up his latte, "Hence the flavored coffee."

Ivan nodded, "I imagine that tastes better, yes. I mostly drink this out of necessity, I'm mess without it in the mornings, but I've grown to like the taste as well."

Alfred took a bite of his muffin and held out his cup to Ivan, "Try this."

With a blink, Ivan set down his own cup in favor of taking Alfred's and took a careful sip of it before nodding decisively, "Definitely sweeter, yes. That's very good actually."

Smiling brightly, Alfred took his cup back, "Isn't it? Mattie wasn't kidding, it's pretty great." He took a sip and exhaled happily, "I only ever get stuff like this. If I make it at home, I use flavored creamers and stuff to make it drinkable."

Ivan chuckled, "Not a tea-person, then?"

"Oh no, coffee all the way," Alfred said, pumping his fist, "Tea's a little too weak for me."

"Glad to see we agree on that," Ivan smiled and sipped his coffee as well, "Where I can enjoy tea for its comforting properties, coffee can be equally as comforting in its strength."

For a moment, Alfred paused and then put down his coffee to snap with both hands, "That's deep, brother. That's deep."

Rolling his eyes, Ivan waved him off, "Oh hush. I'm serious."

Alfred laughed and picked up his sandwich, "I know man, me too. I don't usually think about coffee like that, but I can see where you're coming from." He started in on his food and continued, "I guess I'm just used to drinking it out of habit, you know? Like, I can appreciate coffee swirls and junk, and the way the color mixes when you add creamers, and how awesome it is to hold a mug of coffee in your hands and just relax, but I never really thought about it that way- in the 'its strength is comforting' way."

Shrugging a shoulder as he spread cream cheese on half of his bagel, Ivan quietly agreed, "To be truthful, neither have I, not directly. I'm usually too focused on work to think about much else."

"Oh yeah?" Alfred said through the bread of his Panini, "What do you do?"

Ivan frowned a little and considered his food, "I've got an office job, as I'm sure you've noticed- I believe the official title is 'tax accountant'."

Unable to help himself, Alfred snorted, "No way, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. It's a great deal of math work, typing, record pulling, and file sorting, and I work in a cubicle for the most part."

Alfred made a face, "…No offense, but that sounds very un-fun. You enjoy it?"

With a contemplative bite of his bagel, Ivan shrugged a shoulder, "For a long time I thought I did. I have a habit of throwing myself into whatever job I have, and unfortunately it ends up causing me undue stress and stiffness." He sipped his coffee and sighed, "I've been at this job for five years now, and I didn't think much of it- a job is a job is a job, so I've done what I have to and what I'm supposed to, but it's not nearly as rewarding as I thought it was."

He paused and then rubbed idly at the back of his neck as he looked around the café, "…I haven't thought about it like this before, but I suppose what I mean by that is that it doesn't make me happy. It's a job, and I do it to pay bills and be able to stay afloat, but I don't actually feel like I'm doing anything of worth. I'm not sure that a job is supposed to be like that."

While Ivan spoke, Alfred remained quiet as he ate his food, and when he'd finished, Alfred hummed at him, "Well, with that you're getting into the job versus a career argument. Like, my jobs at the restaurant and coffee shop are jobs, I need them, and they're not what I want to do with my life. My teaching career, however, is something different entirely, because I like dancing and I like teaching dance. It's what I want to do, and it's something I'm good at."

He gestured to Ivan with his coffee, "You sound like you've got a job right there, just something that you gotta do, not what you wanna do. If you want a career, you gotta find something you honestly enjoy even if you're not good at it, and just roll with it for as long as you can. It's hard to do sometimes, because you can't always get what you want and you might not make enough doing it, but sometimes enjoying something can take precedence over money."

Ivan thought about that, tapping his finger against his coffee cup and looking carefully at Alfred, "…Can I confess something?"

Alfred made an 'arms wide open' gesture, "I'm all ears, lay it on me."

"I see Francis because of work-related issues. Due to the nature of my job and the fact that I often over-work myself, I become very gruff and hard to handle, and I see Francis because it was demanded of me by my employer." He looked a bit sheepish as he admitted, "I've, ah, frightened some of my co-workers accidently, to the point that they felt threatened, even though that was not my intent, so I was initially sent for anger management, but Francis soon realized that was not the issue."

Tipping his head, Alfred leaned against the back of the couch, "Hm. Yeah, I guess I can see how you might come across as intimidating, but it's going kinda far to say they feel threatened."

Ivan shrugged, "I suppose. I'm typically a fairly closed-off person, so people don't often know what to think."

"Well you're pretty open with me, man," Alfred said with a smile, "and I think you're great. Your co-workers outta learn to read between the lines."

For a moment Ivan was quiet, taken a bit aback by the compliment, and he let out a breath and said softly, "Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred dipped his head and pat Ivan's knee, a goofy smile on his face, "Nah, no problem, man. Thanks for telling me, I'm glad you trust me like that."

Smiling a little, Ivan put his hand gently over Alfred's and hummed, pleased to be able to talk like this with someone.

Though Alfred enjoyed the touch to his hand, he felt a sinking feeling low in his stomach at the thought that Ivan might want him to reciprocate. He wasn't sure he was quite ready for it, for explaining all of his issues like that, and letting someone other than Francis know about everything that was wrong with him.

But while they sat there, Ivan didn't say anything, he just brushed his thumb over Alfred's fingers and relaxed against the couch. It helped Alfred relax a little too, and he closed his eyes and rested his head against the couch as he laced his fingers through Ivan's. He let himself calm down and feel the atmosphere, and there was… nothing. No tension, no awkwardness. Ivan's hand was loose against his, warm but open, offering an out should he want it but inviting him to stay. He felt fine, not pressured, just relaxed and comfortable. He hadn't felt like that in a while, not outside of Francis' office, anyway, and certainly not on a date. It was really nice, and he just basked in the feeling for a moment.

When he opened his eyes, Ivan was looking at him with a small smile on his face, and it made something warm flutter in Alfred's chest. He took a breath, let it out, then asked quietly, "…How old are you, by the way?"

Ivan blinked, surprised by the question, "Thirty. You?"

Alfred made a thoughtful noise, "Twenty-four. As soon as I got out of high school, I went to college for two years, got a degree in general studies with a minor in communication, decided college was not for me, spent a couple of years going around learning new moves, auditioned and applied for a formal dance class, and was accepted for the position of teacher. All of that while taking on little odd jobs to make it through everything."

He smiled, "I've just kinda been keeping on where I am since then, so I guess I've been teaching dance for about two years now."

"It shows," Ivan said, giving Alfred's hand a little squeeze which made him flush prettily, "I got a four-year degree in economics with a minor in microeconomics, which set me up for the accounting job, and I've worked for a few different offices since I got into the business, and I found the office I'm currently working at when I was twenty-five."

Alfred nodded, "Hm. Why did you major in economics?"

Ivan shrugged, "It was interesting to me at the time. I did well in those types of classes, it was something I understood. And I still enjoy economics, just not in the way that would make my job fun." He looked to the ceiling a moment and stroked Alfred's finger with his thumb, "And I suppose that there was some influence from my family too, as they kept pushing me to get a job that would make a decent amount of money."

"Money is lame," Alfred said, and Ivan laughed a little and shook his head. "I'm going to have to agree with you there."

Chuckling as he finished off his latte, Alfred set the empty cup down and felt full and happy and just overall content in a way that made him let out a pleased sigh. He brushed his fingertips against Ivan's knuckles and smiled at him, "Thank you again for this, by the way. And sorry for freaking you out earlier."

With a smile of his own in return, Ivan shook his head, "It's no problem, Alfred. Though, ah," He raised an eyebrow at him, "If I find that this continues to happen, I'll be taking you out for food as often as necessary, you understand?"

"No offense but that's kind of a weak threat, man," Alfred said, partially pleased at the prospect of more dates and partially discomforted at the reminder of why he'd been ill that day, "But just for you, I guess I'll… work on it."

Ivan nodded and lifted their hands where they were still linked together to press a light kiss to Alfred's knuckles, "Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred's heart leapt in his chest, and he smiled even as he dipped his head to hide it, "…Geez, you're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

"I've never been described that way, but alright," Ivan said, chuckling as he set their hands back down. He tilted his head at Alfred and gestured to their empty plates, "Would you like to leave now?"

Shrugging a shoulder, Alfred smiled and shook his head, "Nah. Could be just chill here for a bit?"

Ivan seemed surprised, but nodded, smiling a little as well, "…Sure, yes. Absolutely."

They stayed there for another half an hour, chatting about whatever came to their heads, music, food, movies, and at one point Matthew came around to take their tray and empty plates for cleaning. As it was starting to get late, Ivan looked at his watch and sighed, "…Where I would love to stay here longer, I have work in the morning."

Alfred shook his head and squeezed Ivan's hand, "It's fine, I've got to be a the restaurant pretty early tomorrow, too."

They each sighed in tandem, then stood to leave, and as they headed towards the door, hands still linked, Alfred's phone went off in his pocket.

From: Mattie

_He seems nice. You should keep him._

Alfred looked at Ivan as they headed to the car and replied once he was buckled in to the passenger seat.

From: Alfred

_dont have him yet =o=_

From: Mattie

_Could've fooled me. You looked happy, btw_

From: Alfred

_thnx i kinda am ;)_

He smiled and leaned back in the passenger seat as Ivan pulled away from the curb and asked, "Where to?" He rattled off directions, and his phone went off again as pop music waded softly through the comfortable quiet (thank goodness). When he saw what it said, he made a choked noise.

From: Mattie

_Glad to see it. Use protection ok?_

From: Alfred

_OMG matt shut up_

He flushed and shoved his phone back into his pocket as Ivan looked over at him, "Everything okay?"

Alfred nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, it's all good, Mattie's being presumptuous and I'm gonna put him in a headlock next time I see him, no big."

Ivan raised an eyebrow and chuckled quietly, "Ah. Alright, then."

They were outside of Alfred's apartment in no time at all, it seemed, and Ivan turned to Alfred after he'd put the car in park, "…Should I walk you over?"

With a little laugh, Alfred shook his head, though his gut flared anxiously as it had been most of the drive, "Nah, that's okay, I'm a big boy, I can handle it." Pausing for just a second, he undid his seatbelt, then, with more nervousness than was necessary, really, leaned over and gave Ivan a kiss on the cheek, "T-Thanks again, Ivan... See you next class."

He managed, and then he was out of the car like a bullet, heart pounding hard in his chest and cheeks hot- god he was fifteen all over again. When he looked back to survey the damage, he saw Ivan smiling that really sweet smile of his and waving his fingers at him when they made eye contact. He waved back shortly and then fumbled with his keys to get inside.

When he was in, he leaned back against the door and smiled goofily, putting his hands over his face and letting out a giddy little laugh. He'd done it- everything had gone well! Better than well, everything was excellent!

The first date was definitely a success, and he'd had no big problems, and he didn't have a panic attack and everything was quiet and just good.

For a minute, he just sat there and smiled, thinking about everything and relishing in the joy of a good date.

_It won't last._

Oh no.

_He doesn't know about you, he'll leave when he does._

No, no, no.

_They all leave._

"No," Alfred grit out, flipping open his phone, "Not tonight you don't." He pressed speed dial and held the phone to his ear, "You're not ruining this. Not this time."


	10. Seven Devils

A/N: Mkay so this chapter is where I really try to do Alfred some justice with what's going on with him, so there's going to be some parts in here that might be difficult to understand what's happening or who's taking, but try to roll with it.

If I've truly messed up trying to do that, please let me know so that I can try to edit it, and do more research to try to better understand how to portray this.

Thanks.

* * *

><p>"So, Ivan," Francis began, leaning over his desk and propping his chin up in his hands, "I've heard it through the grapevine that you and Alfred had that date that you'd been discussing." He looked up, "Or, well, not the one you bet on."<p>

Ivan hummed from where he was laying against the couch, "Mm, that's true, we did. It was rather nice. And we changed the bet." He went quiet, lacing his hands together and resting them against his stomach as though he was comfortable with leaving it at that.

Raising an eyebrow, Francis made an inquisitive noise, "Uh-huh. Would you care to elaborate?"

Smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned back, Ivan pretended to debate it a moment, though he sounded proud and pleased when he spoke, "…Alright, I suppose I can. We went to a café after class, and at first it was mostly to get food for him, but…" He shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know. We talked a lot."

Francis scribbled something down on a notepad and smiled, "Well it's always good to see communication, especially from the two of you. What did you talk about?"

"Work, our education, ages and the like," Ivan waved a hand, "Basic things, really. Oh, and I met his brother."

"Matthew? Did you get on well?"

Ivan nodded, "Yes, actually. We've seen each other before at the café, I just didn't know he was related to Alfred. He seemed nice." He paused, "And Alfred seemed very happy to see him, apparently they hadn't seen each other in a while."

With a little noise of agreement, Francis adjusted his glasses, "Yes, Alfred's had quite a lot on his plate, and Matthew's juggling his own jobs from what I understand. They haven't had the time or occasion to really connect in a good while, from what I hear from Alfred." He shrugged and then brought a finger to his lips with a slightly surprised expression, "Ah, I wonder if I've said too much. I suppose you'll have to ask Alfred if you'd like to know more about that."

Opening his eyes and looking over at Francis, Ivan pursed his lips, "Hm. I'll have to do that, then."

Francis waved a hand, "Anyway, the date!"

"Oh, yes," Ivan said dazedly with a shake of his head, "Um. I think we… what's the word, connected? Something like that. I realized some things while we talked- oh, though I forgot to tell Alfred about that, drat." He frowned, and Francis raised an eyebrow, "What did you realize?"

Ivan smiled, "I figured out why you put me in Alfred's class, specifically."

Looking surprised, Francis leaned back and toyed with his pen, "Have you, now? I'd thought it was rather obvious."

"No, that's not what I mean. I could have gotten stress relief from any dance class, but Alfred's is something different, and he's different, and there's a reason you put me with him."

Francis blinked, "…Enlighten me."

With a breath, Ivan closed his eyes again, "Alfred… he's all about expression and movement and being yourself. He's an astoundingly _free_ person, I think. While we were talking, he told me about some ways to relax, and it was essentially just doing what felt right, and I think he's the type of person to think that way a great deal- to go for things that make him happy and that feel right."

Ivan exhaled and looked up at the ceiling, "I've… never been that type of person. You know, I've told you, I come from a strict household, and certain things were expected of me, and I've lived to the rule and made the bar my entire life. I can't remember ever just doing something because I just wanted to do it. It was always, 'if I need this, I'll get it, or I'll do it; if I don't, then I won't'. But…" He shook his head, "I don't know. I just never thought of doing things because I wanted to, or whether or not I legitimately liked what I do. I always figured if you have to do something, go all the way, and I put that into my job, but... It doesn't make me happy."

He stopped speaking for a moment, eyes locked on the ceiling, and when he spoke again, he was quiet, "It doesn't make me happy." He got a little louder and put a hand over his face, "It doesn't make me happy, Francis. I've been doing this for what feels like forever and it doesn't make me happy."

With a harsh breath and wet eyes, he looked to Francis, whose expression was open and welcoming, "Francis, I don't like my job. I thought I did, I thought work was something I liked because it got me through life, but it doesn't mean anything to me. It's a way to make money and it's literally nothing else to me."

When he'd finished, he heard Francis let out a breath, then sit back, "…Now if that wasn't a break, I don't know what is." He smiled warmly, and it comforted Ivan a little.

"Ivan, this is a good thing. I'm glad you've realized this, because you know what? That feeling you have right now? That's always been there, you just hadn't realized it. You just determined that it wasn't just your over-working that was causing you undue stress, it was your job in general. You've been taking out your displeasure with your profession on yourself by forcing yourself to do more." Francis shook his head, "This is tremendous progress, Ivan. It's only been a little over a month and you've made such strides!"

Ivan ran a hand through his hair, "That's why you put me with him, right? So that this might happen?"

"I only put you two together because I thought your personalities might match," Francis admitted, leaning against the back of his hand and smiling as he took notes, "I never imagined it would have such a profound effect on you."

Quiet for a moment, Ivan put his hand over his eyes again, "…What do I do now?"

Francis hummed at him, and Ivan continued, "What do I do with my life? Do I quit? I don't even know what really makes me happy… I enjoy economics, but not the application of it, jobs like this wouldn't be good for me anymore…"

"Well, first, take some deep breaths, mon ami," Francis said softly, "You don't have to make any drastic decisions right now. You don't like your job, that's fine. Tomorrow, not tonight, do some research on different professions involving economics, and continue looking until you find something that interests you. Personally, I think you would make a good professor."

He shrugged, "But that's just me. For now, just relax, take your new knowledge and let it help you. Do those exercises to relax that Alfred taught you, dance, do whatever you like in your free time, and only when you are ready and have a plan for a new career should you think about turning in your resignation form, alright?"

Ivan breathed carefully and nodded, "…Alright. I feel like I've wasted most of my life."

Francis smiled wistfully, "You've not wasted it. You've had experiences to learn from. Build on those, and they will help you. Now," he said loudly, changing the subject, "don't think about your job for a bit. While we still have time in our session, tell me about Alfred. You said you made a connection?"

Running his hand over his face, Ivan made a noise to the affirmative, "We… I suppose he might say we clicked or something. We just talked and had food, and it was nice. We uh," he cleared his throat before continuing quietly, "…we held hands for a bit, I think. That was nice, too."

"I'm sure." Francis said, and Ivan could hear the smile in his voice.

With pink cheeks, Ivan waved him off, "Anyway, we talked for a while, and then I took him home- or, to his apartment- and…" He scoffed at himself, "I feel like a teenager again, wow. He kissed my cheek then bolted- he left his bag in my car, even." He chuckled a little, "I think he was embarrassed."

"Or unsure of how you'd react," Francis added with a hum. "I'm going to tell you a secret, and this is something I'm allowed to tell you, actually." He lowered his voice and leaned forward, "Alfred, confident though he may seem, is actually quite insecure. But, then," He sat back in his chair again and shrugged, "Aren't we all, from time to time?"

Ivan looked up at the ceiling for a moment, "Hm." He closed his eyes, "Well, I don't think scaring me away is something he needs to worry about."

Francis was quiet for a moment, then he exhaled and took his glasses off, "…personally, I agree with you. I think, for whatever might happen in this relationship between the two of you, you might be better equipped to accept Alfred wholly than someone else would, even if that is only in the friendship capacity." He rubbed a hand over his eyes, "Alfred would disagree. He has trouble seeing his own worth, I'm afraid, though I tell him often."

Tilting his head, Francis sighed, "…I'm _fairly_ certain that's something I'm allowed to say. Ah, well."

"That's," Ivan began, blinking at Francis before furrowing his brow in thought, "…very surprising."

With the closest thing to a facial shrug that Ivan had ever seen, Francis tapped a hand against his desk, "Well, now when he tells you why he sees me for himself, you might not be as surprised. Here's another secret, Ivan," He smirked and made an 'all-encompassing' gesture, "Everyone's got something wrong with them, big or small. It's the ones that tell others about it that have any hope of bettering themselves. Even then, they don't always go away, but- now this is my favorite part," He leaned his cheek against his hand, "sometimes people are better for the problems they have."

Ivan gave him an odd look, then hummed and looked forward again, as if digesting that information.

"…I see."

"I hope you do," Francis nodded and checked his watch, "And with that, we're out of time, mon ami. But, as always, feel free to call if you need me."

Ivan nodded and sat up closely, gathering himself up in a kind of daze as information rolled around in his mind. He shook his head, then straightened himself out and offered Francis a short smile, "Yes, I'll talk to you later, then. Have a good week, Francis."

Francis put his glasses back on and jotted a few notes in Ivan's file, "Same to you, Ivan. Do look after Alfred for me." He smiled, and Ivan flushed a little at the implication as he walked out of the office.

* * *

><p>There was initial silence in Francis's office when Alfred first arrived, and it was quiet for a few minutes while Alfred lay down on the couch and tried to get comfortable. It wasn't awkward, as they'd long ago determined that Alfred could be silent for as long as he wanted during his session, he would never be forced to speak. He could go the entire session without saying a word, but there was a reason he was paying Francis, so he tended to not do that.<p>

They'd had meetings start like this before, and Francis had noticed the look Alfred gave him immediately when he entered. So, he'd given him a 'whenever you're ready' gesture and sat back to peruse his file and make some notes.

After a short time in which Francis thought Alfred might have fallen asleep (which would have been good for him, judging by the dark circles under his eyes), the blonde exhaled heavily.

"…Okay," he began quietly, "So I need to go back on medication, I think."

Francis looked at Alfred from over his glasses, "A different one, yes?"

Alfred nodded, "Is there… I don't know, an anti-depressant or something you can put me on?"

With a shake of his head, Francis exhaled, "I don't think that is what would work the best with you, unfortunately." He flipped a page in the file and traced a paragraph with his pen, "I had you on a prescription that was a low-level antipsychotic and contained the more important ingredients in anti-depressants, but you said it dulled more than your hallucinations, so my guess is that the mood inhibitors were too strong in that particular pill."

Sighing, Alfred ran a hand through his hair, "So, what, we do something without anti-depressants, then?"

"If you want a medication that will get rid of the hallucinations, then yes." Francis scribbled a note, and then removed his glasses to look over at Alfred, "I'm going to suggest a higher dosage antipsychotic- this particular type doesn't have mood inhibitors, so some of your previous reactions shouldn't occur this time, however your eating habits and mood will be unaffected entirely, I think."

He pursed his lips, "…I think the mix of the anti-depressant and the antipsychotic is what caused the last relapse. Things like that do occur with some patients, so, if you feel comfortable with it, we can either begin trying the higher dose antipsychotic to help you with the voice, or we can put you on a different mood inhibitor in order to help you with your depression and diet. Just not both."

Meeting Francis's eyes warily, Alfred bit his lip and debated it, "…Which do you think is the worst?"

Francis sighed and leaned back, resting his hand against his hand, "I wouldn't say the worst, but I _am_ more worried about the hallucinations at this point. I think they play off your depression and worsen it, and that, in turn, causes you to revert to unfavorable eating habits. It's a vicious cycle that I believe is rooted in the hallucinations."

He hummed, "At this point, have you had more than one experience where you hear more than one voice, or they speak over each other? Are they ever non-coherent?"

Alfred looked uncomfortable, and he shifted where he lay, "…I've- Yeah. Other than the other day, there have been a few times where… Where there's a bunch of them. Mostly at night." He took a breath, "…and yeah, sometimes they just make noise. It's happening more often recently."

Nodding, Francis took some notes and slipped his glasses back on, "I see. Now, I know it must be difficult to sleep since we got you off of the other medication, how have you been handling that?"

With a quiet wince, Alfred rolled his shoulder in a shrug, "…Not well." He sighed, "It's… Okay, most of the time this thing is kind of like having a music player on the lowest volume setting- where you can't make out all the words but you know it's there, and you can just hear the really faint trace of it." He tapped his head, "It's happening right now, where I can't make it out all the way but know it's there. So when I try to sleep… I know it's not healthy, especially with my diet, but… if I don't exercise until I pass out from exhaustion, then, well…" He bit his lip and inhaled, closing his eyes as Francis looked over at him. "Some nights, if the exercise isn't enough, I just won't sleep. I'll take caffeine pills or aspirin, or just overload on coffee and find a way to distract myself. It sucks, I hate it, and sometimes they get worse during those times, and I have to drown them out with music or something. Other times… other times I just need to black out and not deal with it anymore and the need is so strong that if nothing else works I'll drink until I fall asleep from it."

He put his hands over his face as he heard Francis write down more notes and he exhaled shakily, "You told me not to, and I'm sorry but I needed to get away from it and I couldn't think of anything else that might work other than banging my head against the wall."

Francis waved a hand, though Alfred couldn't see it, "There are worse things you could be doing. As soon as you start taking this new prescription, the hallucinations should begin to go away. Seeing as the symptoms are coming back so strongly in such a short amount of time after taking you off of them, I can only think that the antipsychotic was doing its job." He looked over to Alfred as the blonde peered through his fingers at him, "If you don't see any improvement within two weeks, you need to tell me, because that either means that the dosage in that is too weak as well, or that we need to try a different type of antipsychotic."

He hummed, "If they don't lessen, at the very least, within a month, then I'll suggest we take you off of the prescription. For now, though," He tore a piece of paper off of his prescription pad, "This is the prescription we'll try, and I think it should do you some good."

Alfred closed his eyes behind his hands and exhaled, giving a little nod and muttering, "…Okay. Thanks."

With a smile, Francis took his glasses off and closed Alfred's file, "Of course, Alfred. Now then, let's get on to a happier topic." He crossed his arms against the desk, "Tell me about the date you and Ivan had. I heard it went well."

Wiping his eyes, Alfred sniffled and gave Francis a look, "…He said that?"

"He did," Francis nodded, "For all that I'm allowed to tell you, he enjoyed it quite a bit."

Alfred blushed and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, "Oh. That's good."

"Mhm, I agree. But how did you enjoy it?"

Shrugging a shoulder, Alfred curled up a little on the couch, "It was nice. We talked a lot, I learned a bunch of stuff about him- he told me why he sees you, actually."

Francis raised an eyebrow, "Did he now?"

Alfred nodded, "Yeah, and it was kinda huge. Well, or something. I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, "Like, I felt really great because he trusted me enough to tell me that, but then I felt nervous cause I thought he might want me to tell him why I see you, and I've just got so many issues…" He exhaled, "And I am totally not ready to let him in on just what a mess I am, but you know what was great?"

When Francis made an inquisitive noise, Alfred looked at him and smiled a little, "He didn't ask me to tell him. I don't know if he just kind of got that I didn't want to talk about it or whatever, but he just kinda… he took my hand and didn't say anything and we were able to be quiet for a while and it was…" He sighed and closed his eyes, "It was really nice. No pressure or anything, just relaxing. Man, Francis, I can't remember the last time I could just be with someone and not worry about anything, you know?"

With a short nod, Francis let out a breath and traced a finger along his desk, "I know what you mean. I'm glad you can have that."

"Yeah," Alfred said dazedly, "You know, I kissed him when he dropped me off." He blushed, "Or, well, his cheek anyway. And god, I was so nervous for no reason, I freaking sprinted to my apartment and- oh man." He laughed and put his hands on his head, "I think I left my dance bag in his car geez way to go, me."

Francis chuckled, "You did, he still has it."

"Oh, well, that's good," Alfred ran his hands through his hair and mussed it up, "I'll text him about it later or something. Uh, yeah. As soon as I got in my apartment, that's when I called you." He frowned, then shook his head, "I hope that doesn't happen again."

"Me too," Francis agreed, "Dates are typically better when you don't have to worry about third party commentary."

Alfred nodded, and Francis checked his watch before giving a little gasp, "Oh, dear. It seems we've gone a bit over our time, actually. I'm afraid we'll have to cut it off for today."

Looking at Francis in surprise, Alfred sat up and checked his phone, "Oh, man, dang. Sorry about that."

Francis waved him off, "Don't worry about it, I just hope you won't be late to work." He held Alfred's prescription out to him, "Be sure to get these as soon as possible, okay?"

Alfred smiled a little at him and took the slip, "Yeah, I will. I think I'll have time before my shift, so." He headed toward the door and gave Francis a salute.

"See ya later, Francis."

* * *

><p>"Not this time," Alfred grit out into the receiver of his phone as he waited for Francis to pick up.<p>

_He's going to leave_. **They always do**.

_**You're always going to be alone**_.

When he finally got through, he spoke before Francis could get a word in, "Francis, what can I do to get it to shut up?"

**Nothing**.

_You'll always be fucked up_.

_No one wants you_-

**everyone actually hates**-

_it's only a matter of time before you_-

**it's all going to come dow**-

_**even he will leave you**_

There was a beat before Francis said, "Ah. Well first, I want you to take some deep breaths-"

"Francis I can't calm down right now, I was so happy and now this is happening and-"

"Alfred, please, just breathe," Francis said firmly, and, shaking, Alfred leaned his head back against his door and closed his eyes.

_Weak__**weak**__weak__**weak**_

He took a slow breath and curled a hand in his hair, and he heard Francis do the same on the other line, "Good, Alfred, keep breathing, deep breaths."

_Won't help_

**Nothingwill**_**we'restill**_

_Nothing__**will**__nothingwill_

_Alone__**alone**__nothing_**will**_**we'restill**_

_**Allalone**__weak__**hatesit's**__only__**you'regoing**__toalone__**alonealone**__nothingwill_

Alfred shook his head, "Not working, not- Francis, can't think…"

He heard a muffled curse, then the flutter of papers before Francis's voice came back over, clear and calm, "Alfred, try to hear me. If you still have any of your prescription, use it right now. Just take one dose, you need the antipsychotic. The antipsychotic, if you can hear me, the antipsychotic."

As he repeated them, Alfred caught the words he needed to catch, and he pushed himself away from the door and towards his bathroom with the phone pressed against his ear.

_**Nothingwill**__stillalone__**hatehehate**__going__**syou**__to__**so**__leave_

"Christ, there's…" He took a deep breath and to think straight, "More than one… shit, fuck can't think, Francis…" He held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he reached for the almost empty bottle of the prescription Francis had him on before, and Francis's steady voice slipped between the others in his head.

"Alfred, you can_can't__**never**__couldwillnot_do this, it's alright. Take _everything__**youcan't**__nothingwill__**alone**__alone_the dose, then I want you to try and sleep, okay? Sleep_**forever**__willneveralone__**hateleave**__gone_just go to sleep_nownever__**more**__hate__**aloneall**__hegone_ after you take that, go_leavehe__**alone**__nothingever_ to sleep, alright?"

"Fuck," Alfred groaned, knocking back two of the pills dry and leaving the bottle on the edge of the sink. He walked back to his bedroom, phone in hand, and fell face down onto his bed, pulling a pillow over his head and mumbling to the phone, "Took 'em, still- how long?"

"Half an_lifetime__**forever**__neversleep__**nothing**__could_hour, at the maximum."

"Fuck," he said again, and decided to squeeze his eyes shut and try as hard as he could to block sound out, "Call again if can't sleep bye." He managed, then closed his phone and tried to breathe deeply. It was going to be a long night.


	11. Wouldn't It Be Nice

A few days after Alfred's appointment with Francis, he found that the medication was helping him get to sleep. Where usually the voices always felt like they were on that lowest volume setting, but still thrumming in the back of his mind, the drugs helped dull it even further. If he took the pills before bed, it dulled them enough that he could hardly tell they were there unless he focused on them, and that was enough to help him get to sleep.

Three days after he'd started the medication, he slept soundly all night. Because of that he woke up pleasantly surprised and feeling refreshed, with only minimum interference from the voice. It was really uplifting, and that morning he really felt like maybe things could get better.

He even ate breakfast.

The dance class was that night, and he sent a text to Ivan before his shift at the restaurant to ask him to bring his bag to class, and was happy when Ivan sent him a little reply of 'Sure. I didn't look inside it, I promise. ;)'.

Everything was coming up Alfred.

That night, he arrived at the dance studio early to find a few of his students there, as well as Ivan, who was sitting next to his bag with a smile on his face.

"Well color me shocked," Gilbert said, wrapping his arm around Matthias, "Teacher-man's here early for once. Is the full moon out tonight?"

Matthias chuckled, "Maybe. Or he's just got a special someone he wants to get some extra time with…" He nudged Gilbert and gestured to where Ivan and Alfred were smiling at each other and saying hello.

"How long before you think they get married?" Gil asked, drumming his fingers along Matthias's shoulder, to which the other man shrugged, "Probably after one of them gets knocked up."

With a snorted laugh, Gilbert shoved at Matthias and make grossed out noises.

Alfred had his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweats as he rocked side to side a little, "So, thanks for taking care of that for me," he tipped his head towards where his bag was sitting on the bench, "Completely forgot that I'd even put that in your car."

Smirking, Ivan shrugged a shoulder, "Yes, I'd noticed you were a bit too busy running away to think about it. It's no trouble."

Alfred sputtered, "I was not running away!"

"What would you call it, then?"

"Just," he tried, "making a hasty exit."

"Running away."

"Shut up," Alfred huffed, shoving at Ivan's shoulder playfully as the tips of his ears turned red. "I was nervous, okay?"

Ivan seemed to soften a little, "I know. It's fine, really, I just thought it was funny." He raised an eyebrow at him, "You don't have to be nervous, though. I won't bite."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Unless I want you to, right?"

There was a pause, "Well, yes."

Now Alfred really flushed and he made a choked noise for a second before nodding, "Right, uh, okay. Don't have to be nervous."

With a smile, Ivan nodded his head, "Yes. And… well." He stepped a little closer to Alfred and whispered lowly, "I wouldn't have minded if you had stayed a little longer. I'd have liked to have kissed you back." Compulsively, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Alfred's cheek, and he proceeded to light up like the fourth of July.

"Oh." He managed in a squeak of a sound before he nodded, "Right, yeah. Um," He dipped his head a little and smiled, "I'll keep that in mind."

Ivan nodded as well, "Please do."

Alfred looked up and they grinned at each other for a second before Gilbert whistled from the other side of the room at them. Without even looking, Alfred flipped him the bird, which caused everyone else in the room to laugh, effectively ruining the moment.

Sighing a little, Alfred shook himself out and headed to the front of the room, "Okay guys, let's get to it. And I swear to god, Gil, if you don't wipe that look off your face, I'm gonna punch it off."

The class was a fairly normal one, all joking and flirtation aside, and where Alfred did still isolate Ivan to teach him some specific things, none of them were particularly close quarters dances until they got to the last ones. Since the last time they'd had class, Alfred had passed out, they hadn't gotten to do the last few moves, so that's what was on the agenda.

With a smile, Alfred wrapped his arms around Ivan's shoulder, "Alrighty, Ivanski, time for the fun stuff."

Ivan raised an eyebrow at him, "What's particularly fun about it?"

Alfred pouted and tapped Ivan on the back of the head, "You're supposed to say 'I thought we were already having fun'."

"…I thought we were already having fun," he deadpanned, and Alfred grinned toothily, "That's the spirit!"

He put his hand in Ivan's and gestured to his own hip, "We're gonna practice a different style of partner dancing. Hang on."

Ivan blinked at him, but put his hand on Alfred's hip regardless, only to have him smile like he had a secret.

"Alright, now you remember the steps from the last dance we worked on?" After a moment of thought, Ivan nodded, and Alfred nodded back, "Good, let's practice that once, then I'm going to do something a little different- just go with it, okay?"

With a little hum of assent, Ivan did the steps Alfred asked of him, a few sets, and they moved together in the little corner they'd taken for themselves. Alfred seemed pleased at Ivan's movements, and Ivan was feeling rather proud of himself until Alfred winked suddenly and moved his hips in a way they hadn't practiced. He did the turn-away move that he'd been expecting, but with much more flair than before, and much much more motion to his whole form.

As he came back to meet Ivan's hands again, he smiled brightly, "Come on, do what I do."

He put a few more inches of space between them so that Ivan could see the pattern and arch of motion he'd set his hips into, and while Ivan was grateful for the demonstration, it was still very distracting, and he nearly lost step trying to focus on it. After a few more rotations, though, he seemed to get it, and instead of paying attention to Alfred's hips, they looked right at each other.

Ivan didn't look down to see what he was doing, he didn't count his steps out loud, he didn't look to his own his and compare what he was doing to Alfred, he just moved them in the way he knew how. He matched Alfred move for move, mirrored what he did, and Alfred was fairly certain his was going to hurt his face if he smiled any wider.

He batted his lashes at Ivan, "You're _good_. Have I told you that you're a natural at this? Because you are." He did a turn and when he came back, he set his hand on Ivan's chest, "I'm really impressed."

With a little smile, Ivan squeezed Alfred's hip a little, "Thank you. Though obviously without you I'd have two left feet."

Alfred hummed pleasantly, "Now you're just flattering me. But I can dig that." He swiveled his hips just so and pressed himself a little closer, "I'll happily take credit. By the time we get you into the routine you'll outshine all of us, I bet." He grinned, "I'll have to give Francis a thank you card for sticking you here."

Ivan chuckled, "I might have to send one, myself." Without warning, we twirled Alfred just so, then dipped him even as he gave a little squeak of surprise, "I'm finding this to be a very enjoyable form of therapy." He grinned, and Alfred laughed and turned pink from where he was still being held up by him.

"You're not even fair, what the hell," He muttered, shaking his head and patting at Ivan's shoulder, "Let me up you charming thing, I've got a class to dismiss." He grinned and pressed a little kiss to Ivan's nose before the other man let him up, then pat Ivan's chest and chuckled to himself.

"Geez, what even," Alfred shook his head and walked to the front of the class, cheeks still pleasantly pink.

"Okay guys, I'm pretty sure that we can get Vanski over there caught up on the Moves Like Jagger steps, so we'll all start working together on that routine again next class." There was some cheering from the group, and Alfred laughed, "Yep! But watch your asses, don't slip up, cause I swear that guy over there will kick your ass on the dance floor if you let him."

Ivan flushed a little, pleased with the praise, and got multiple hands patting him on the back, and Gil and Matthias wrapping their arms around his shoulders to muss up his hair.

Alfred grinned from the front, "That's about all we've got for today, so you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. Practice what you need to, but otherwise have a great week and get ready to kick some serious ass in here next class."

With a few affirmative noises, the class started to depart, and Alfred hummed as he headed to get his bag and go home, feeling really satisfied with the day. Ivan approached him before he had even zipped up his bag, though.

"So." He began, and Alfred pulled his hoodie on with a smile.

"So?"

"So I was wondering," Ivan continued, "if you might have dinner with me tonight."

Alfred looked at him and adjusted his sleeves, "Hm. For the pleasure of my company or for the sake of my health?"

Ivan actually blinked at him in surprise, then hummed, "Both I suppose. Though I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Which way, A or B?"

"B," He tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, "For the most part I just wanted to spend time with you."

Subconsciously, Alfred relaxed and gave a little shake of his head, "Yeah. Right, obviously, sorry." He offered him a slightly embarrassed look, "I guess I'm not used to people being interested in me for reasons that don't have to do with…" He made a vague hand gesture, "Stuff."

Ivan nodded, "I understand. You still haven't answered my question though."

Flushing again, Alfred smiled and nodded a little, "Yeah. I mean, sure, yes, I'll have dinner with you."

"Good," Ivan smiled, "I'm glad. Do you mind if we eat at my place?"

"You cook?"

"Well enough."

"Then I'm game," Alfred grinned, picking up his bag with one arm and wrapping the other around Ivan's waist, "Let us be off, then, my good man."

Ivan chuckled and wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulders as they left, "As you wish."

"Oh don't even start with The Princess Bride references, dude, I could go for days," Alfred grinned, but Ivan just tilted his head at him, "The Princess Bride?"

For a moment, Alfred just gaped at him, "No way. You've never seen The Princess Bride?" He snorted and pat Ivan's hip, "Well that settles it, we're watching it after dinner."

"Well," Ivan began, "I'm fine with that, but how?"

Alfred hummed, "Do you have a game system?"

"Such as?"

"An Xbox, man, or a PS3."

Ivan shook his head, "No, I don't play." Alfred gasped dramatically, "Oh, the humanity. Well wait-" He gave Ivan a look, "Is it because you don't like games or because you were always so focused with work that you never bothered?"

With a hum, Ivan considered it, "Both?"

Alfred sighed again as they neared the car, "Oh, dear Ivan, we have to fix that. You'll have to come to my place next time- I'll instruct you in the ways of video game war." He nodded, determined, and Ivan shook his head with amusement, "Whatever you say."

When Ivan pressed the button on his key ring to unlock the doors, they headed to the back to put their bags in, and Alfred chuckled, "Careful, if you let me have my way all the time I'll have you wrapped around my finger real quick." He tossed his bag in, and after Ivan threw his in, too, he felt Ivan's arms wrap around him. Ivan kissed the back of Alfred's neck and murmured, "…I'd be okay with that."

Alfred shivered and leaned back into the hold with a hum, "Yeah I'd be okay with that, too." Ivan turned his head to rest his chin on Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred turned to kiss him on the cheek, "Let's go, hm?"

Ivan nodded and pressed his nose to Alfred's temple for a moment before pulling away, "Mhm." He shut the door to the trunk and headed to the driver's side door while Alfred exhaled and smiled a little as he walked to the other side.

When they were both settled, they smiled at each other for a moment, and the car was comfortable for each of them during the drive.

It didn't take too long before they were outside of Ivan's apartment and Ivan was carrying his dance bag while he lead Alfred to his door.

"I don't, um," He cleared his throat, "I don't usually have people over, so I apologize if it's not…" He searched for a word, and Alfred piped up, "Welcoming?"

Ivan shrugged, "Something like that, sure."

He unlocked the door and held it open for Alfred to walk in, as well, "Welcome, anyway."

Alfred looked around curiously, finding mostly Spartan decorating and very functional furnishings. It kind of suited Ivan, in its way. He nodded a little and offered Ivan a smile, "It's a nice place. Big, too, wow," He noticed the small hallway leading away from the kitchen and living room area and headed over, "Okay that's way more doors than I expected- you have a guest room, holy crap. Also your living room is huge, man." He grinned, "It's pretty awesome."

Ivan smiled awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck while he set down his bag, "Thank you, I'm glad you like it."

Alfred nodded and headed to the living room to flop down on the couch, "Oof. Hey, you know what we could do?" Ivan hummed from the kitchen, and Alfred shifted to make himself more comfortable, "If you don't wanna cook, we can always order Chinese or something and watch the movie while we eat."

With a thoughtful noise, Ivan left the kitchen and appeared from behind the couch to look down at Alfred, "That's a good idea. Want to do that?"

"Sounds good to me, bro," Alfred said, giving him a thumbs up, "I can take half the check, too, so we're good." Ivan shook his head at him and went out of sight again, "No, don't worry about it, I can cover it."

Huffing, Alfred shuffled around until he had his feet propped up on the arm of the couch, "At least let me get the tip, man."

He heard a responding huff, "If you insist, fine."

"See, look at that, compromise. Good communciation, A plus for us," Alfred grinned and closed his eyes where he lay, "What a good start. Communication is the most important thing in a relationship, after all." He didn't really realize what he said until Ivan paused and came back to look over him again.

"…so we're in a relationship, then?"

Alfred flushed and shrunk back into the couch to hide part of his face with his hoodie, "Well, uh. I guess? If you wanna be, I mean, obviously, but if you don't want to that's o-"

"I want to," Ivan confirmed, looking just as red in the face as Alfred felt. "Do you want to?"

Alfred managed a little nod and murmured, "Yeah," and then Ivan was leaning down and kissing him. And it wasn't those cheek kisses they'd been doing, and it wasn't the little neck kiss, either. Despite the angle being slightly awkward, Alfred surged up to kiss back whole-heartedly.

And at first it was chaste, just a warm press of lips against lips, but then Alfred let out a little breath and Ivan licked at his lip. Then all bets were off and after Alfred's valiant attempts to map out Ivan's lips with his tongue, Ivan took Alfred's lower lip and kissed and nipped at it gently, making the other man let out a little breathy noise.

Alfred tangled his hand in Ivan's hair and pressed closer, sitting up to get some better leverage and breathing Ivan's name between them before Ivan leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Mm," Alfred murmured, licking his lips, "Well that takes care of the second most important thing about a relationship." When Ivan made an inquisitive noise, Alfred bumped his nose against Ivan's.

"Really good kissing."

Ivan chuckled under his breath, flattered, and kissed Alfred's cheek, "Glad we make the grade, I suppose." He ruffled Alfred's hair a little, "I'm going to go order the food now, if that's alright."

With a grin, Alfred ran his hand back through his hair to fix it and kissed Ivan's cheek in return, "Don't let me stop you. Say, d'you have a laptop?" He lay back down and settled comfortably into the cushions while Ivan went back to find his book of takeout menus.

"Yes, it's on the table under that folder," he called, and Alfred tilted his head to look at where it sat on the edge of the coffee table. He was feeling lazy and content now and the end of the table was just so far away…

He whined and tried to edge his foot over to it, but he couldn't reach. No rest for the weary, he mused dramatically.

With a huff, he sat up to carefully slip the very functional looking laptop out from under the folder (careful to not disturb it in case it had Ivan's work stuff in it). As he pulled up the log on screen, he settled back into the pillow he'd been on and tipped his head back to call, "Hey Vanski, does your laptop have a password?"

From the kitchen, Ivan put his hand over the receiver, "Yes."

"What is it?"

"Macro19," Ivan said, holding the phone away from himself for a moment.

Alfred snorted, "Lame." It got him in, though, and he quickly opened up the internet to connect to Netflix. He heard the little beep of the phone that meant Ivan had finished ordering the food, "Do you know if you have an HDMI cable?"

Ivan came and sat on the back of the couch, "…I have no idea what that is."

Grinning, Alfred waved a hand at him, "Yeah, don't worry about it. We'll have to watch it on your laptop, then, if you don't mind that."

Humming, Ivan looked down at him, "I don't have a problem with it, though it does mean we'll have to sit fairly close together."

Alfred batted his lashes at him, "That's peachy keen for me, sweetie. You seem like you'll be a comfortable pillow."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Ivan said, laughing as he walked around to the front of the couch. Alfred leaned forward so that Ivan could get behind him, then settled against his chest as Ivan wrapped his arms around him. His head rested on Ivan's shoulder, and he tipped his head back to kiss under Ivan's chin. Smiling, he let out a little exhale, "Yep, very comfortable. This will do very nicely."

Ivan smiled and kissed Alfred's temple while Alfred adjusted the screen for them and started the movie.

They got through about 15 minutes of Alfred mouthing the words along with the movie and Ivan smiling at him before the food they'd ordered arrived, and even though they were annoyed to have to get up, getting back into that position with food was the bigger obstacle.

"If you get that in my hair, I'm not kissing you goodnight," Alfred warned, shrinking away from Ivan's chopsticks as he took a bite of the chicken he'd ordered. Ivan only chuckled at him and held up the next bite to Alfred's mouth, "I won't, don't worry."

Alfred hummed at him and took the bite anyway, and they settled again to watch the movie while they ate.

By the end of it, there were two empty cartons on the kitchen table and the laptop alerted them that it would need to be charged soon. Alfred hummed and closed his eyes as Ivan put the thing to sleep, "So now I'm going to make a million references to this movie and you're going to have to get it, okay?"

Ivan smiled and leaned over to put the laptop on the table as well, "As you wish."

Alfred snorted and reached up to pat Ivan's face, "Hush, you." He smiled as Ivan pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then sat up to turn around and lay against Ivan's chest, looking very much like the cat that got the cream. Ivan smiled at him, then Alfred leaned forward and kissed him.

"Thank you for this, by the way," he said against Ivan's lips, and Ivan closed his eyes and shook his head, pressing their foreheads together.

"No need to thank me. I'm glad you're here," he kissed Alfred once, then again, "And that we're like this."

Alfred hummed and shifted against him a little, "Like what?" He kissed him again, lingering a little this time. He adjusted Ivan's legs a little so that he could straddle his hips, "Like this?"

Ivan put his hands on Alfred's hips and hummed, "Well I meant that we're together," he clarified, pressing his thumbs to the jut of Alfred's hipbones, "But this is great, too."

With a little noise of agreement, Alfred leaned to take Ivan's lips again, rocking slightly against him as he did so and causing some really wonderful friction between them. He did it once more experimentally and shivered at the low groan from Ivan and how his hands tightened on his hips. He curled one hand in Ivan's hair and kept the other on his shoulder to balance with, starting a little rhythm to his hips as they kissed.

And it was like fire. At first just the warm spark of arousal sitting low in both of them, but soon there was a hot need that flowed between them, and Alfred was panting against Ivan's cheek as the other man rocked his hips up to meet him. He felt kind of like a teenager rutting up against Ivan like that, but it was way way too hot for him to stop. With a shudder, he leaned to press wet kisses against Ivan's neck, and the moan that earned him made him buck a little harder against Ivan's hips.

Ivan tipped his head back to allow him room, and the flush that had settled in his cheeks had now spread to the tips of his ears and the back of his neck as they continued. Alfred could feel the heat against his lips, and he nipped gently at the expanse of skin where Ivan's shoulder met his neck and was rewarded with the coupling of a sharp gasp and a hard rock of Ivan's hips against him.

"Mm, Alfred," Ivan breathed, bringing a hand up to tighten in his blonde hair. At this point, Alfred could feel the press of Ivan's hard cock next to his own through their sweats, and he wanted so badly just to pull down the soft material that separated them and feel the hot touch of skin on skin, but part of him, the evil awful part, told him this wouldn't last, and that it would be better to not get in too deep.

He shoved that part away, but it had effectively planted a seed of worry in him, one that threatened to disrupt everything even as he felt the breath of Ivan's pants and moans in his ear.

But then, before he could try to get himself back in the game, he felt Ivan's hand against his crotch and gasped even as he pushed against it. He lifted his head to look at Ivan, whose eyes were dark with lust, and shuddered as he gripped him through the cloth.

"Can I…?" Ivan asked, running his finger along the length of the covered arousal.

Alfred groaned and decidedly told that part of himself to fuck off as he reached down to press his hand to Ivan as well, "Only if I can."

Ivan's eyes widened and he nodded shortly as they both slipped their hands into the other's sweatpants and picked up a rhythm that suited them. It was fast, but absolutely glorious, and Alfred pressed his forehead to Ivan's shoulder to moan against him, "Ivan, oh _fuck_, just like that…"

Ivan leaned his head against Alfred's and bucked up with his movements as well, groaning loudly under him and pressing kisses to Alfred's shoulder and neck.

It wasn't long before Alfred was shakily clutching at Ivan's shoulder and crying Ivan's name out again and again as he came hard into his hand. He bit his lip and groaned loudly as he bucked through it, still trying to keep up the rhythm of his other hand. It worked, apparently, because while Alfred was coming down from his orgasm high, Ivan was arching into him and sucking a bruising kiss against his neck as he hit his peak as well, mostly quiet except for a breathy moan against Alfred's shoulder.

When Ivan was done, he lay back, sated, and Alfred was content to rest against him, come between them be damned. Ivan seemed to agree, as he wrapped his arms around Alfred and held him close. Alfred hummed and closed his eyes as his thumb made little circles along Ivan's collarbone, "…okay?"

Ivan breathed a chuckle, "Very much so, yes. You?"

"Mhm," He nodded against Ivan's shoulder and smiled, "Hope you don't think I'm easy for putting out on the second date."

"Um, no," Ivan said, holding Alfred a bit tighter, "I don't think bad of you for anything, let alone this. Besides, I 'put out' too."

After a little pause, Alfred laughed and pressed his face to Ivan's neck, "Yeah. Thanks, Ivan."

"For what?"

"For being a good guy, I guess," Alfred shrugged a little and nuzzled Ivan's neck with his nose, "Just. This is really nice. You're really nice."

With a soft smile, Ivan ran his hand along Alfred's back, "Thank you, Alfred. I think you're wonderful, too."

Alfred huffed, "You don't have to say that."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

Flushing a little, Alfred buried his face in the crook of Ivan's neck, "Mn." He brought his hand up and pat Ivan's cheek once before just kind of running his thumb along Ivan's cheekbone.

He was happy. Really really happy for the first time in a while. It felt good, and wrapped up in Ivan's arms and feeling the little kiss pressed against his hair, he felt safe and loved.


	12. Kryptonite

A/N: Possible trigger warning for drug usage.

* * *

><p>When Alfred woke up the next morning, he and Ivan had moved quite a bit. That is to say that now they were in Ivan's bed, Alfred's shirt was mysteriously missing, and he was using Ivan's chest as a rather comfortable, if moving, pillow.<p>

Not a bad way to wake up, all and all.

He could feel the little puffs of Ivan's breath against his hair as he slept, and for a moment a very happy warm feeling spread through him, and he wondered if he would be able to have this. Even if he had to have all the other crap too, if he could just have this, he thought he might be okay. Ivan would probably help him, and hold him like this, and just talk to him when he needed to be with someone, or leave him alone if he needed it and make him food when he hadn't eaten… he'd probably help him start to get better, too.

He was already a few steps in the right direction, so Alfred thought that if he could just stay with Ivan like they were, he might actually be able to make it to that light at the end of the tunnel.

It was a very nice thought, and Alfred nuzzled his face against Ivan's chest with a smile. Shirt or no shirt, the body heat he was sharing was absolutely wonderful.

It seemed, though, that Ivan had been stirred by Alfred's movement, as his breathing changed and the arm he had around Alfred tightened just a little as he caught his bearings.

"Mornin', big guy," Alfred murmured, pressing a kiss to Ivan's sternum and propping his chin there to smile lazily at him.

Ivan hummed and kept his eyes closed, running his hand along Alfred's back for a moment, "Morning."

Alfred smiled more and leaned up to press a kiss under Ivan's chin, "Not a morning person?"

Smiling a little, Ivan exhaled, "Not really. Have to be, for work, but…" He stretched a little under Alfred before lying back, "If I could stay in bed until noon, I would."

"Mm," Alfred agreed, moving up Ivan to press his nose to the other's neck, "Me too. Fuck knows I need the sleep." He looked over to the clock on Ivan's bedside table, "When do you have work?"

"Today? Nine. Why?"

With a little wince, Alfred kissed Ivan's cheek and carefully lifted himself off of him to roll onto the other side of the bed, "No reason, really. It's eight thirty."

Ivan shot up and looked over at where the clock read 8:31, "Shit."

He leaped up out of bed, tearing the covers off of himself, and started to run out of the room, only to pause in the doorway and look at Alfred, remembering that he was there. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with the need to be elsewhere, and before he could offer an apology or something like that, Alfred waved a hand at him from where he was lounging, "Go, go, you're gonna be late."  
>Ivan relaxed and gave him a nod, "Thanks. Make yourself at home!" He offered as he dashed to the bathroom to get in a quick shower. Alfred merely hummed and settled further back into the bed, comfortably warm and wrapped in Ivan's smell.<p>

He had his shift at the restaurant later that morning, but he wouldn't have to worry about that for another hour or two yet, so he'd enjoy being at Ivan's while he could. He only stayed in bed for another minute, though, because he had the brilliant idea to make a quick breakfast for Ivan so that he could eat on the road or in his office.

It was slightly chilly when he got out of bed, though, and he hissed at the cold before finding Ivan's discarded shirt from yesterday and pulling it on for the hell of it. It was the one he'd worn during class and continued to wear at home, so it smelled faintly of sweat, but it didn't really bother Alfred much, he wouldn't be wearing it long. Plus there was the fact that there was a significant amount of room in it, seeing as Ivan was taller than him and had a broader chest.

It kind of made him feel good to be wearing a shirt that was too big for him, for reasons he couldn't really pinpoint, but that didn't matter, it was time for food.

He headed back to the living room kitchen area while he heard the shower running, glad he'd kept his socks on for whatever reason as he stepped onto the cool tiles.  
>The quickest and easiest thing to eat (that wouldn't case much mess, heaven forbid Ivan should stain a dress shirt) was a wrap of some kind, so if Ivan had everything for it, he'd be in for a decent portable meal.<p>

Alfred started poking around through the drawers of the kitchen, looking for anything he could use to put one together, and Ivan much have been a taco kind of guy, because lo and behold there was a package of tortillas in the pantry. There were eggs and cheese in the fridge and potatoes in a bag in the pantry, too, so he had pretty much everything he needed, and it only took him a few minutes to whip it all together into a fairly large wrap that should keep Ivan from being hungry.

He'd make his own when Ivan went to work, maybe, but for now he put on some coffee and put the wrap in a napkin on a plate so that Ivan could grab it quickly.

He could hear the commotion of Ivan changing in his room, along with a few curses as he tried to rush, and when Ivan speed-walked into the living room with wet hair, he found a thermos of coffee, a breakfast wrap and a smiling boyfriend waiting for him.

It caused him to pause and stammer eloquently, which made Alfred chuckle and walk over to kiss him gently, "You can thank me later, just make sure you don't forget anything, and have a good day."

Ivan seemed to snap out of his shock, and he dropped his briefcase for a moment to wrap Alfred in his arms and kiss him breathless. When he pulled away, he leaned their foreheads together and smiled, "You are wonderful. Thank you so much," He kissed him once more, then grabbed the breakfast that had been made for him and headed to the door, "I'll call you later, okay?"

He managed as he started to step out of the door, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm, "Ivan."

When he turned to look, Alfred was smirking and holding his briefcase out to him, "What did I just tell you?"

Ivan let out a breath and took the case from him, leaning to kiss his cheek again, "You're a lifesaver."

Alfred kissed him back and nodded, "Yes, yes, now go, you've got like 15 minutes."

Ivan grinned at him and dashed to his car, leaving Alfred grinning goofily as he leaned against the door jam. When Ivan had gotten himself settled in the car, he waved at Alfred from the parking lot before quickly backing out and heading to work, which is when Alfred remembered something.

"He's still got my bag," He chuckled to himself, "Of course that would happen again."

He shook his head and headed back into the apartment, deciding to just steal some of Ivan's clothes for when he headed to work. But first, a nice long shower.

He managed to make it to his shift from Ivan's place with time to spare, dressed in the smallest pair of black jeans that Alfred could find in Ivan's closet (he still had to roll the legs up a little and wear a belt with it), and one of his white dress shirts (tucked in, and the sleeves buttoned at the cuffs).

It wasn't perfect, but it would do just fine, and Alfred was actually really comfortable in the too-big clothing. He didn't think Rodriech would mind, either, since it was technically still the restaurant uniform, and that was a plus.

He even managed to get a bite to eat before he left, and he pat himself on the back for having a good morning. He hadn't even noticed the voice doing anything, could barely feel the little hum that was there, and he was promptly not thinking about it. He was going to have a good day- gonna ride the good morning all the way until it was time for bed.

When he made it to work, he was greeted by his fellow servers, who raised eyebrows at his outfit.

"Ooh, Alfie, nice threads," a girl pigtails commented with a wink, "you got someone hooked on you?"

"Maybe," Alfred grinned, "Maybe not."

She shook her head, "Nope, you definitely do. You've got honeymoon phase written all over you." She smiled at pat his shoulder, "It's nice to see you so happy. But do let whoever you're with know that if they hurt you at all I'll personally go kick their ass okay?"

Alfred laughed and pat her cheek, "Thanks, Sey, I appreciate it. But I don't think you'll have to worry about that, he's a great guy."

Sey held up her hands, "I'm sure. And if he keeps making you happy, I've got no beef." She nodded to the back, "Go sign in, I'll mark your section for you."

With a smile, Alfred nodded, "Yes ma'am, thank you kindly."  
>She hummed at him as he headed to the back, and he was still riding the good morning buzz (and also the coffee and food in his stomach were a comfort where there normally wasn't one).<p>

He signed in and got into the swing of his shift with ease, going through orders and smiles and describing the food without a hitch, refilling drinks as necessary and collecting a very nice amount of tips. But when the afternoon came around, he started to feel heavy for some reason.

Between waiting tables he took sips of water and rolled his shoulders out, trying to make himself feel better, but it didn't do as much as he'd have liked.

The longer he worked, the more strain he felt, and he was very confused as to why it was happening. Even worse, the light buzz that the voice had been before had now morphed into a much louder sound, distracting him enough that he had to ask one of the people in his section for their drink order three times. He apologized and started to put them together before he started to notice his hands shaking.

"Shit," He hissed at himself, and he shut his eyes and took deep breaths, willing himself not to have a panic attack during his shift. He only had another hour before he could leave and go back to Ivan's place, or head to his own and take his meds, but he didn't have time to spend on having a panic attack and then getting over it.

The more he worried about it, the worse it got, and was soon leaning heavily against the wall near the drink dispenser, arms wrapped around himself and head bent to his chest as shivers racked him. He bit his lip and pressed his face to the corner, trying very hard to get a hold of himself or calm down, but it just wasn't happening, and he couldn't make it end that way.

He told himself to breathe (he tended to start gasping during a panic attack, and he didn't know what he would do if he started to hyperventilate), that it would be okay, but he was shocked out of his mantra by a hand touching his shoulder.

"Alfred?" Sey's voice asked, and he could hear her frown, "Panic attack?"

He nodded shortly, not looking at her, and she pat his arm, "One second, baby, I'll get Rodriech for you."

She was gone in the next second, and Alfred cursed himself for being so messed up that he couldn't even get through his shift after such a great morning without fucking something up.

Rodriech was at his side a moment later, patting Alfred's back gently, "Sey's split your section between the others, so don't worry about that, Alfred. Just breathe, you'll be alright."

Alfred tried to breathe, to just focus on that, and one the light pats from Rodriech, not the shift, not where he was, just breathing, just the gentle touch. He was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

After another five or ten minutes, the shaking subsided, and Alfred was breathing regularly enough to raise his head and wipe his eyes. He took one more deep breath, then looked at Rodriech, who raised his eyebrows at him in worry, "Alright?"

He exhaled, then nodded just a little, "…For now, yeah." He looked away from him, "Sorry."

"No problem, Alfred," he said, and pat his shoulder, "There's not much of your shift left, and your section has already been taken care of, so why don't you go home early today?"

Alfred looked at him again, guilty, "Are you sure?"

Rodriech nodded, "Your health is more important than the rest of your shift. Get some rest, and call me if you need to take tomorrow off."

Shaking his head, Alfred straightened himself out and took off his apron, "Yeah. Sorry about all this, really." Rodriech took the apron from him, "Don't worry about it. See you later, Alfred."

With a little nod, Alfred took the back way out of the restaurant, fighting just breaking down into tears and struggling to tune out the voice. Things had been going so well, and now he'd just ruined a perfectly good day.

Maybe he just needed his meds, he thought. Maybe missing them last night and this morning had made him have the panic attack. Surely that was it.

He headed home with the intent in his mind to take his meds first thing, and the scary thing was that the voice encouraged it with dark agreement.

-  
>By the time he made it home, he felt even worse than he had before, still bogged down with the fear of having another panic attack and heavy with the noise of the voices in his head. Getting into his apartment was only better in that he could collapse to the floor and put his head between his knees without getting looks from people.<p>

He sat there and breathed for a moment before he stood up and shook himself out, determined to get to the bathroom and take his meds to make the voices stop.

_Won't help__** never does**__ what makes you think _  
><em>Idiot <em>_**blind faith blind**__ blind gonna die _  
><em>No one stays <em>_**he won't gonna die**__ gonna die_

Alfred hissed between his teeth and told himself the meds would help, they'd make the voices go down again, he just needed to take the dosage.

_Too late late__** late now**__ done __**all done gonna die**_

When he made it to the bathroom, he undid the first few buttons of Ivan's shirt and tried to breathe deeply, splashing water onto his face for a moment to try and get himself under control.

_Late __**LATE late won't help**__ gonna die can't __**get it off gonna die**__ gonna die_  
><em>Get it out <em>_**can't help gonna die**__ hahahaha HAHAHAHAH_

Alfred balled a hand into a fist and groped with his other to find the bottle and pop it open with his thumb.

_TAKE ITTAKEITTAKEIT__**TAKEITALLWON'THELP**__DOWNITTAKEITALLHAH__**AHAHAHTAKEITGONNADIE**_  
><em>HAHAHAHA<em>_**GONNADIEWON'THELP**__TAKEITALLHAHAHAHA_

His hands were shaking now, and his vision was blurring with tears, his mind so rattled now that he couldn't think straight. He knew he did have to take the dosage, but he could hardly see and he wasn't sure how many he shook into his palm, but surely it'd be enough to make the voices stop. He just wanted the voices to stop. Anything to make them stop.

_TAKEITALLTHEBOTTLE__**DOWNIT**__TAKEITALL__**KILLYOURSELF**__GONNADIEHAH__**AHAHGONNADIENOONECARES**__GONNADIEWON'THELPGONNADIEHAHAHAHA_

He brought the palm with the pills in it to his mouth and quickly swallowed all that were there, turning the tap back on to bring water to his mouth to make sure they went down. When he was sure they'd made it down, he threw the bottle against the wall and screamed through his tears, "TAKE THAT YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!"

They screamed back at him, and he brought his hands to his head and curled into the ball on the tile floor, crying and just wanting it to stop. He pressed his forehead to the tile and rocked there with his hands curled in his hair, begging for it to stop.

He wasn't sure how long he begged, but the screams started to dim, the medicine starting to take effect, and regaining the ability to think only made his head hurt just as much. It also brought with it a terrifying realization, and he looked to where the pills he'd thrown were scattered against the floor. He did a rough estimate of how many were there, then rushed to pick up the bottle and check how many had been in there.

Immediately, he felt himself turn cold. There were something like 20 or 30 pills on the floor, and he'd only taken maybe 10 max as regular doses…

The prescription was for 60 pills.

He tossed the bottle to the floor again and clambered over to the toilet, shoving his fingers down his throat like he had so many times before to try and get them to come back up. But fuck if it did much.

Desperately, he kept trying to irritate his gag reflex, but it just wouldn't react- there was no lurching feeling, no bile, just the discomfort of being jabbed like that. Had he done it too much? Had he trained his fucking gag reflex to stop working out of familiarity? Sure he'd noticed last time he tried to purge in that way that it had been a little more difficult than he'd expected, but this was ridiculous.

He tried a few more times, growing more frustrated with it each time, before he broke down and sobbed against the porcelain, scared and in pain and cold.

He clawed for the phone in his pocket with still shaking hands and pressed the speed-dial for Francis, praying that he'd pick up- but of course, with his fucking luck, it went straight to voicemail. It was his cell number, not his work number, so his phone must have just died without him realizing it. On the perfect day to do so of course.

Hearing Francis's voicemail message only made him feel worse, but he left a terrified message anyway before quickly hanging up and trying the next number in his phone without looking at it.

After a few rings, he got a hit.

"Hello?" Alfred froze for a moment at the sound of Ivan's voice- he thought for sure that the next number would have been Rodriech or Matthew, just anyone but Ivan.

"Hello, Alfred?" Ivan said again, and Alfred snapped out of it. There was no time to waste worrying about what he'd think.

"Ivan I'm so sorry about this, really, but I've made a terrible mistake, I didn't mean to, I just had to make them stop-"

"Alfred," Ivan interrupted, sounding worried, "Calm down, breathe. What are you talking about?"

Alfred inhaled a shaky breath, "I had a panic attack at work, so boss sent me home, but the voices were too loud and I had to take my meds but-"

"Alfred?"

"Ivan I took way too many- it wasn't on purpose! B-but I couldn't see and I can't- I can't get them back up anymore, Ivan, I'm scared, I'm so scared," Alfred stammered into the phone, closing his eyes tightly and putting his hand over his mouth.

There was a short pause on the other end before Ivan let out a breath and started speaking calmly, "Alfred, I know you've tried to get them up, but keep trying. Use a toothbruth or whatever you can, just keep trying. You're at your place?"

"U-uh-huh."

"I'm going to call an ambulance, and I'll be over as soon as I possibly can. Keep trying, Alfred, you're going to be okay, I promise."

"Okay."

"Hey," Ivan said, serious, "You are going to be okay. Just stay calm and do as I've asked, alright?"

Alfred exhaled slowly and nodded, "Alright. I will."

"Good. I'm leaving work now, I'll be there soon."

"Okay," Alfred said, and hung up, breathing carefully and leaning back over the toilet to try again.

Ivan left everything that was at his desk without thinking twice about it. None of that stuff mattered, not the work, not his jacket or briefcase or thermos, and he didn't need anything but his keys and his phone to get to Alfred and keep him safe.

He dialed 911 as he walked out of the building, not even bothering to go to his boss's office before he left- there was no time for that.

"Hello? Yes, I need to report an accidental drug overdose, we need an ambulance."

He was surprised at how calm his voice was as he talked to the responder, rattling off Alfred's address and telling her he'd be there before the ambulance got there as he used his other hand to get into his car and start it.

"Yes, thank you, I will."

He hung up and tossed his phone into the cupholder next to him while he tore out of the parking lot and onto the route to Alfred's place. If he thought he'd been speeding trying to get to work, it was nothing compared to the rates he was reaching now. He made it to the apartment in less than ten minutes, leaping out of the car and running the entire way to Alfred's door, where he'd thankfully left it unlocked.

Regardless of having never been inside the place before, Ivan ran in and called Alfred's name immediately, to hear the croak of Alfred's reply from what appeared to be the bedroom.

As quickly as he could, he made it to the bathroom, not seeing anything in the entire place other than his destination- Alfred, who was curled on the floor in a mess of pills and water.

His face was painful to look at, all tiredness and gratitude mixed with fear and regret and shame.

"…Still can't," he began, but couldn't complete the sentence for a sob that shook his shoulders.

Ivan simply fell to his knees and took Alfred into his arms, kissing his forehead once, "I'm sorry about this."

It looked like Alfred was going to ask what he was sorry about, but Ivan quickly pulled Alfred's head back by his hair and shoved his own fingers down the other's throat, surprising him and seemingly choking him for a moment before his chest heaved. Ivan directed him to the toilet, still holding him by his hair, and rubbed his back while Alfred purged the contents of his stomach.

He retched for a minute or two, then slumped in exhaustion, and Ivan released his hold on his hair.

"Think that was all of them?"

Alfred glanced at him tiredly, then looked at the spew and grimaced, "…Yeah, most." His throat was hoarse, and he coughed painfully, "Some in my system, probably."

Ivan exhaled, "But the bulk of it is gone, yes?"

When Alfred nodded, Ivan pulled him back into an embrace, pressing his face to Alfred's shoulder and shuddering.

Alfred was shaking worse than he was, though, and for a moment Ivan worried he might go into shock.

He sighed, "Let's get you warmed up."

Alfred shook his head slightly, "Tired."

Ivan merely hummed before moving to crouch next to him instead of holding him, bringing one arm under Alfred's legs, and one under his chest. It didn't take as much force as he'd thought he'd need to lift him, and that was a little scary.

"Strong," Alfred managed, a tired smile on his face.

"Light," Ivan replied, shaking his head and bringing them over to Alfred's bed. He sat Alfred down and wrapped him up in a blanket before he got him a glass of water and made him drink it. Then he settled next to him and pulled him into his lap, holding him from behind and trying to keep him warm.

"The paramedics will be here soon," he said, thinking that Alfred might be dosing, "I know your throat hurts, but I need you to stay awake, so talk to me. Or something. Just don't fall asleep yet."

His shivering was subsiding a little, and Alfred hummed and leaned back against Ivan's shoulder, "Good idea you had. Your fingers are bigger than mine. And my toothbruth. Made it work."

Ivan winced, "I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry about that."

Alfred shook his head, "Probably saved me. Knight in shining armor."

"Guy with Emergency Response Training," Ivan corrected, and Alfred snorted, "Where'd you learn?"

"High school. Did a military science class for a while. I was pretty good at it."

"I bet you were," Alfred smiled dopily, and Ivan rested his chin on Alfred's shoulder before kissing his jaw. "Bet you were the best."

Ivan exhaled, "You're a flatterer."

"You're always charming," Alfred retorted, "It's my turn to be."

With a little smile, Ivan nuzzled his nose against Alfred's neck, "You're very charming, Alfred. All the time."

Making a little groan, Alfred weakly swatted at him, "Again, damn it. Stop that."

Ivan only chuckled, and it was then that there was a knock on the door, which quickly turned into two EMTs walking in curiously, "We received a 911 call for this address?"

Ivan nodded, "He took to many pills, he's thrown up most of them," Alfred groaned, "But he seems like he might go into shock."

One of the guys nodded, and they both brought in a stretcher, which Ivan helped them with. They got him into the ambulance fairly easily, and after a moment's discussion, they let Ivan stay in with Alfred for the ride to the hospital.

While in the ambulance, he held Alfred's hand, the one they hadn't connected an IV to, and he talked to him to keep him awake while they needed him to be, and when it looked like he was safe from going into shock, they let him go to sleep.


	13. We Are Young

There were faint glimpses of things, mixing together like a dream, or someone telling him a story that he could hardly hear.

"…most of it. Would have died if not for that."

"Is he okay now?"

"He'll be indisposed for a while, but yes, he should be fine when he wakes…"

The nonsense whispers of probably-people, the clattering of sharp things, the harsh sound of rumbling that turned into an annoying shrill sound. He was never fully awake for any of it, just barely conscious enough to sense some things vaguely. He couldn't really feel anything, could just hear little noises and groggily try to piece them together, but he always drifted back out before he could decipher them.

When he woke up for real, he couldn't remember any of that little chorus of noises. He was only aware of a warmth on his hand, an ache in his throat and stomach, and the haze that remained of his sleep. It felt like he'd been sleeping for a week; he felt heavy and subdued, and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

He didn't want to open his eyes yet, as he could see the dark red behind his eyelids that meant there would be lights to greet him, and that didn't sound fun. Carefully, he tightened the hand that was covered in warmth, and was pleased to realize that someone was holding his hand with their own. They gave him a squeeze back, and pressed something soft to the back of his hand.

Oh. That was a kiss, he realized.

"Alfred?" A soft, yet deep voice asked.

Alfred carefully opened his eyes, hissing a little at the light then gritting his teeth when making that noise irritated his throat. He blinked through the adjustment and the sleep in his eyes, and when the face near him came into focus, he inhaled sharply.

"Alfred," Ivan said, looking tired and worn, but smiling slightly, "You're awake. Do you know where you are?"

Raising his eyebrows at Ivan, he tilted his head slightly and made to shoot a sarcastic comment at him, but it made his throat ache again. He sucked in air through his teeth, and Ivan caught on, handing him a paper cup of water.

Carefully, Alfred lifted the hand not connected to an IV to his mouth and managed a mouthful of the slightly cool liquid. It helped slightly, so he tried to carefully clear his throat. When that didn't hurt too much, he nodded and handed the cup back.

"…Hospital," he murmured, and looked down at his stomach, "Pills. Not dead, so… they got it all?"

Ivan nodded, seeming relieved, "Yes. Well, actually, you got most of it when we had you throw up back at your place." Alfred winced a little and Ivan frowned in sympathy, "That's part of why your throat hurts. Since we weren't sure if there were still enough pills in your system to cause you harm, they pumped your stomach, too. That's the other reason you're going to feel sore."

Alfred groaned quietly and closed his eyes, remembering everything that had happened in its entirety and feeling ashamed and embarrassed for it. And worse than just having it happen, he'd involved Ivan, too, way to go him.

"How long?" He asked, and Ivan ran his fingers along the back of Alfred's hand.

"They brought you in yesterday afternoon, and you've been in here since then. It's about," Ivan checked his watch, "11 A.M. Francis came in last night to check on you, and I told him what you told me, I hope that's okay."

Alfred nodded a little, "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Alfred," Ivan said quietly, and Alfred felt a burning behind his eyes that had him looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and closed his eyes again. He might as well get it all out in the open, now, since obviously Ivan would have questions.

Where did he get the pills? What were they for? The same old song and dance.

But Ivan was silent, no doubt giving Alfred some time to collect himself, bless him. He wasn't really sure if he should, though. He wanted him to know, he really did, but it was early into their… well, if they still had a relationship, it was very early into it, and he didn't want to lump him with a ton of crap only to have him not even stick around to make it worth it in some way. That would suck.

No point in hiding it now, though, so he cleared his throat and spoke quietly.

"I've got schizophrenia with a side order of depression. Have for a while now. Those pills I took were anti-psychotics meant to help the auditory hallucinations that I have."

He exhaled, "I also have bulimia. If you're not sure, that means I tend to purge my system of food fairly soon after I've eaten. I used to do it the old fashioned way, just puking it up after meals, but," he shuddered a little, "research and professional help told me that doing it that way could lead to some very gross other effects. So I tried other things. Diuretics, over-exercise , or just not eating sometimes, whatever I needed to do to not feel like an overweight piece of shit."

Alfred chuckled humorlessly, "Which is stupid, because I'm not overweight, and I know that. Actually, if we're talking BMI, I think I'm actually underweight, and have been for years." He shrugged, "But it's a harsh industry, I'm under pressure." Opening his eyes with a snort, he looked at the wall across from the bed, "That's a shit excuse, everyone's under pressure, but there you go.

In the dancing industry you've got this stigma- you have to be a certain size to do this-" he reached for the cup again and took a shaky sip of water, "…You've got to look like you're a stick made of glass or no one wants to see what you can do. And that's such bullshit, too, cause I've seen bigger people look absolutely amazing while dancing."

He scoffed, "And you know, I'm a fucking hypocrite, too, cause I tell everyone that comes into my class to take care of themselves, and eat a lot and hydrate and don't overwork themselves, then I go home and do exactly what I've told them is bad."

Even though he felt like he needed to shut up at this point, and not really sure why he continued to ramble, He closed his eyes again as they started to water a little and continued, "So I do that, and that only adds to how shitty I feel normally because of the whole depression bullshit, which, let me tell you, is hell. It's just hell.  
>Then, special little me also got lumped with a case of schizophrenia a year or two ago, which I've been told probably springs from the depression or the happy meds, one of them, and depression is just a <em>much<em> funner game when you've got fucking voices in your head telling you that all your insecurities are real, and everyone hates you for them, and you're and even lower piece of shit than you think you are."

He inhaled a harsh breath, "And again, I know that's crap, and I know that I have people who care about me, but try telling that to them. I have, it doesn't work, because they're not actually separate consciousnesses, or whatever, they're just products of my own self-doubt and loathing, and I _know_ that."

He felt an angry red flutter in his gut, nervousness at putting these words to the air, but some part of him made him keep talking, to get it all out. Alfred turned his head towards the IV machine, throat aching again, "But it doesn't help that I know it. I could write essays and novels and screenplays and shit about how much I fucking know it, but the thing about depression and schizophrenia is that I'm going to feel awful even if I want to feel good. Even if I've got something to feel good about, I might not feel good about it, depending on how my brain feels like distributing things that day. I can have a really damn good day, and then I won't, because I'll either get hit with some serious sadness, hardcore apathy, lethargy, and if it's one of _those_ days, I might even have a panic attack."

He looked back at Ivan now, "And then I feel like crap even more because that's not how I'm supposed to be feeling, and not how I want to feel, but I feel it anyway. It's not fair, and life's not fair, and whoever fucking dished out all this shit should be shipped directly to hell A.S.A.P."

He was quiet for a moment, and Ivan was too, just looking at him with a very neutral expression on his face that Alfred didn't like, but then it wouldn't have mattered what Ivan's reaction was, Alfred wouldn't have liked it. There was no good way to react to that, and Alfred knew that from experience. So, he wiped his hand over his eyes and leaned back against his pillows.

"Sorry. You didn't sign up for a lecture-rant thing about my issues," he muttered, frowning and putting his arm back down, "And look, you didn't really know what you were getting into with this whole thing-" he made a hand gesture between them, "there was a whole fucking addendum with a list of all my problems that you never got to see before you signed up, so if you want to just want to have a clean break, I'm not gonna hold a grudge against you for it or anything." He smiled, but it was almost more like a grimace, "Better we cut ties now, nip it in the bud and all that."

Now Ivan gripped Alfred's hand and sighed harshly, "I'd rather not, thanks."

Alfred gave Ivan a look, and he shrugged, "You may not have told me about what you were going through, but I still knew that you saw Francis for a reason. I wasn't completely in the dark about the fact that there was something you felt the need to see someone for."

He took Alfred's hand in both of his and toyed with his fingers, "Mostly, I'm happy that you've told me that much about yourself. And you know," he smiled a little and met Alfred's eyes, "I'm not someone who would betray the trust of people I care about. You've let me in on a very personal part of your life, trusted me to not throw it back in your face or insult you about it, and that's a very important thing to me." He looked back down to Alfred's hand and brushed his thumb over Alfred's knuckles, "You've given me something very special, so thank you for that, Alfred." He kissed the back of Alfred's hand and heard the short hitch of breath that came with the action.

"…You, uh," Alfred coughed a little and looked away, a bit warm in the face, "You're welcome, I guess?"

Ivan smiled against his skin and rested his arms against the bed, "Mm. So, if it's alright with you, I'd like to continue to date you."

When he looked up to Alfred's face, the other's eyes were closed and he was shaking his head, "…This might happen again. And I'll probably have a ton of panic attacks, and, and I'll probably be really bitchy sometimes…"

"And I'll be there with you through it, I suppose," Ivan said calmly, and Alfred shook his head again.

"I'll lock myself away, maybe, or I might hallucinate and yell or just hide under the covers and never come out, that happens."

"I'll give you space," Ivan said, "and if you need anything, I'll be there."

Alfred groaned and pressed his face into his pillow, ears turned red, "…This is sounding a lot like marriage vows, dude."

That got a nice-sounding laugh from Ivan, and Alfred looked back to see him grinning, "Well that's skipping a few steps, I think."

Smiling a little himself, Alfred snorted, "No kidding. But uh," he swallowed, "Thanks for the sentiment, and stuff."

"And stuff," Ivan nodded.

Awkwardly clearing his throat and settling back into the pillow behind him, Alfred exhaled, "Right, so uh. Without sounding like marriage vows again, or like, selling our souls away or whatever, can we agree to try and take care of each other, both of us, while we're together, for however long that is?"

Ivan seemed surprised, but then he nodded and smiled brightly, "Okay."

Alfred nodded and couldn't help but smile as well, "Okay." He nodded again, "Okay."

At that moment, Ivan leaned forward towards him, and when he and Alfred made eye contact, everything kind of made sense. Then Alfred's eyes slipped closed and they were kissing. It was chaste, because no doubt Alfred had some bad breath going on from hospital and drugs and stuff, but it was enough to make his heart flutter a little. Which would have been fine, if the heart monitor connected to Alfred hadn't been tracking the whole thing.

There was a clear increase and skip in Alfred's heart-rate, and Ivan chuckled against his lips, making Alfred groan and lean forward to press his head to Ivan's shoulder.

"Shut up, you."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your smug face says it all," Alfred huffed, patting Ivan's chest and keeping his own face hidden from him, "Wouldn't be so funny if it were you were the one hooked up."

"It probably would, actually," Ivan argued, and Alfred chuckled before bringing his hand up to run his fingers against Ivan's jaw, "Yeah, probably."

Smiling softly, Ivan turned his head to press a kiss to Alfred's palm, and when the monitor skipped again, he grinned against his skin.

"Not a single word," Alfred warned, pushing his hand up into Ivan's face to move him away, "Jesus, you've got some kind of charming-sickness or something, don't you?"

Still smiling brightly, Ivan shrugged and moved Alfred's hand away from his face to put it over his heart and flutter his lashes, "Or something."

Alfred groaned loudly and fell back against the pillow, "Get out, oh my god."

For a long while, Alfred and Ivan just talked, not about anything really important, mostly bad jokes and food, but it was comforting, and got Alfred's mind off of things in a way he felt he needed.

Francis showed up into the afternoon, and immediately sat down with his chart, a pen, and his glasses, "Alright, Alfred, I got most of the story from Ivan, but if you'd tell me how it happened from your perspective…" He looked at Ivan, "Ah," he turned back to Alfred, "Does it matter to you if he's here?"

Alfred blinked, seeming a little surprised at the very sudden interrogation, but he exhaled and gave Ivan an apologetic look, "…Can you give us a minute?"

With a little smile of understanding, Ivan pat Alfred's leg, "Of course. I'll get a coffee or something." He leaned down and kissed Alfred's forehead once before leaning the room, and Alfred settled into the pillows.

After following Ivan's retreat with his eyes, Francis gave Alfred a look, "Are you two together, then?"  
>Shrugging a shoulder, Alfred hummed a little, "Maybe, yeah. We were yesterday, and we talked about it today and decided that we still are, so."<p>

"Well congratulations," Francis said cheerfully, twirling his pen for a moment, "I'm glad to see that you two have gotten so close. I think it'll be good for both of you."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure you said that about him taking my class in the first place," Alfred said, raising an eyebrow at him, and Francis shrugged.

"Well," he tapped his pen to the edge of his clipboard, "Then I meant it would be good for the both of you to meet new people, stir things up, maybe meet someone that you can talk to about your thoughts and personal demons besides me. But now I mean that a relationship will be good for the both of you; each of you could use someone with that level of personal connection and devotion." He hummed, "Yes, this could go very well."

Alfred made a little noise of disapproval, "You say that like it could go bad."

Francis shrugged, "Where I don't find that likely, it's possible." He waved a hand as if to clear that thought from the air, "But! We're talking about what happened, now."

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Alfred leaned back and let out a breath, "Alright, what do you want to know?"

For a moment, Francis took his glasses out from his pocket and put them on to review Alfred's file, "Hm, well my first question is, do you think the panic attack that you called me about sparked the break in psychosis?"

"Yes," Alfred said immediately, closing his eyes, "If… if it had just been the panic attack, I could have dealt with it, it wasn't the worst panic attack I've ever had, since Rodreich and Sey were there to change my schedule and have people handle the tables in my sections, but… yeah." He sighed heavily, "When I got home, I was already feeling shaky and awful, so it probably caused the voices to wig out on me."

Francis nodded and wrote that down, "Mhm, I supposed as much. Now, were you prompted by the hallucinations to take as many of the pills as you did, or was it purely accidental while you were trying to get rid of them?"

Wincing, Alfred nodded shortly while his throat tightened up a little, "…Yeah, a little of both. I wanted to take them to get rid of the voices, but then they kept telling me to take all of them…" He put his hand over his eyes and breathed carefully, "I got scared and almost didn't want to take them, but I wanted them to go away so bad…"

"I understand, Alfred," Francis said quietly, "It was a horrible situation."

Alfred bit his lip and nodded again, wiping his eyes harshly and looking up at the ceiling with a ragged chuckle, "…_Wow_ I am sick of crying."

Smiling a little, Francis pat Alfred's thigh, "I know, cheri. Soon this will all be in the past."

There was a snort, "Yeah, let's fast-forward to that, thanks."

Francis chuckled a little, "Right, then, let's. That's all I really needed to know about that situation, so tell me about you and Ivan, now." He smiled and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and left the folders in his lap. "Where do you want the relationship to go? Do you feel like it's a healthy relationship?"

Alfred laughed, "I, uh. Thinking about it that way is kind of weird, but, yeah."

He shook his shoulders out a little and tried to clear the crying feeling from his mind, "Yeah. We've got a thing where we don't have weird expectations of each other, and we know where we both stand on these things, so… Yeah. We're not like, dependent on each other either, and I hope it doesn't get like that, I think, but…"

He smiled a little, "We're gonna try this thing, you know? And I like the idea of giving this a shot with him. I think this can work, and I can't see the future or whatever, I don't know how long this'll last, but…" He shrugged and grinned against his shoulder a moment, looking over at Francis now, "I don't know, I feel like this can go really well. Like, even if we break up at some point, I still feel like it will have been worth it."

Francis smiled and nodded, "I'm getting that feeling, too. And I think you're completely right. What I'm getting from you two suggests a healthy relationship to me, and, like I've said, that will be very good for both of your social and mental well-beings."

With a hum, Alfred nodded, "Yeah. Though I am kind of afraid," he admitted, "even though I told him about everything, and he seemed pretty cool with it, I just… I know how I am like this, and I just wonder if he won't get tired of dealing with me."

"If I may be blunt," Francis said, putting his hands against the folder in his lap, "I don't think that's going to happen. Now, there may be rough patches for the both of you, and that's perfectly normal, but I don't think Ivan will 'get tired of you'. Ivan's a person who, until recently has only been focused on his work, and because of that, he hasn't experienced much else, or had the want for anything else."

As Alfred blushed a little at the implication, Francis continued, "Now that he's getting out of that constant cycle, he's starting to experience things again, and there are a lot of things about you that will be very good for him during this time."

He leaned forward and counted on his fingers, "You're very lively, even though part of you fights it from you at times. You are intelligent, and can bring good conversation to the table. You like to be constantly doing things, whereas he was previously always stationary." He held his hands out, "Do you see what I'm saying?"

"Basically you're giving me permission to sleep with your patient, is that what I'm getting here?" Alfred joked, and Francis gave a surprised laugh.

"Well not in so many words, but, if you want to see it that way, I won't correct you," he grinned too, and Alfred made a face at him.

"You know," Alfred said, "You're a cool guy, Francis."

Francis puffed up proudly and winked at him, "I try, my friend, I try."

At this point, Ivan knocks on the door and pokes his head inside, "…Is it alright to come back now?"

"Nope!" Alfred said cheerily, "Francis is painting my nails; we're having a sleep over and there's no boys allowed."

Ivan rolled his eyes as he walked into the room, "Good, then, just us girls." He sipped his coffee and tucked a hand into his pocket, "I'm guessing you ladies had a good talk then."  
>Chuckling, Francis nodded as he packed away his things, "Yes, we determined that Alfred's color is a deep maroon."<p>

"Oh, good, I figured as much," Ivan agreed, smiling.

Alfred hummed and tucked his hands behind his head, "Yeah, and I figure you'd do best with a blue, or a violet." He tipped his head from side to side, "I don't know, what do you think, Francis?"

As he stood up, Francis gave Ivan a look, "Hm, yes definitely. A violet would certainly bring out his eyes."

"Well there you go," Alfred said, and Ivan nodded gravely, "I see. I'll definitely check my shades before I color them again."

Francis smiled and let out a breath, "Now that we've settled that, I'll be taking my leave. Alfred, if you need anything, call me, and the same goes for you, Ivan." He pointed at him, and when they both nodded, he hummed and headed out, "I'll see you both next week, then."

"See you, Francis," they both said, and when the door shut close behind him, there was a beat of silence.

Ivan took Francis's chair and exhaled, "So. What do you plan on doing now?"

Alfred gave him a look, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Ivan shrugged, "The doctors said that they'll probably let you out of here either tonight or tomorrow, they'll let us know after they've talked to Francis, but in all likelihood, you'll be able to leave tonight."

There was another short silence, and Alfred gestured for him to continue, which made Ivan duck his head a little and exhale.

"So, are you going to go back to your apartment when you get out, or…" He swallowed, then smiled at him, "I don't know, would you want to stay with me for a little while?"

Alfred blinked at him, "…Are you being serious right now?"

With a raise of his eyebrow, Ivan nodded, "Very."

"Oh." Embarrassed and happily surprised, Alfred covered his mouth and smiled behind it, "Oh, um." He looked away from Ivan for a minute and took a breath, thinking about it. His own apartment would probably be really awful to go back to initially because of what had happened, so it would probably do him some good to be away from it for a while… Plus, Ivan would be able to keep him company, and he'd have a safe place to stay while he got the rest that the doctors would no doubt tell him to get.

Ivan was fidgeting now, nervous, and he shrugged a shoulder, "If you don't want to, that's okay-"

"No, no," Alfred shook his head and looked at him now, smiling, "I want to. It's a great idea. I'd really like that, actually."

Physically relaxing in his relief, Ivan smiled and nodded a little, sheepish, "Oh, good! Um, good. I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah." Alfred said, and they both sat there being quietly happy for a moment. Then, Alfred realized something.

"Hey, wait," He said, making Ivan look at him like he'd been caught in the cookie jar as he reached for Alfred's hand. Alfred grabbed his first, which made him smile, but then Alfred continued his sentence, "Wow I'm dumb, but, aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Ivan made a little 'ah' sound, and looked away from him a moment, "Right, that. I took the day off. My boss actually hadn't realized I'd run out yesterday, but I called him once you were out of the emergency room and told him I had a family emergency." He smiled when Alfred flushed a little at that, "He said it was fine, and since I've racked up lots of vacation days, I can be away from the office for a while if I want to."

Alfred smiled and relaxed a little, running his thumb along Ivan's fingers, "That's good. I was worried I got you in trouble."

Ivan shook his head, "No, no trouble at all. Well, other than scaring me a great deal, but there was no helping that."

Feeling a spike of guilt, Alfred gave a strained smile and laugh, "Yeah, um, sorry again about that."

Ivan actually paused now, taking a second to think about something, then his eyes widened a little and he gave a stilted gasp before he ran a hand across his forehead, "No, um. Right, sorry, that was insensitive of me." He gave Alfred an apologetic look, "I didn't mean it that way, it wasn't your fault."

Alfred hummed and gave Ivan's hand a squeeze, "Mhm."  
>Still looking upset about what he'd said, Ivan kissed Alfred's knuckles gently, which made the other smile a little as a doctor walked into the room.<p>

The man that walked in was a tall, fairly quiet looking man with some very light hair and a kind look to his face. His nametag read Väinämöinen, which Alfred almost got dizzy just looking at, let alone trying to pronounce it. He hadn't noticed their gesture, nor did he seem to care about them holding hands, he just looked at the clipboard and then at Alfred, "Alright, Mr. Jones, how are we feeling today?"

Alfred thought about it, looking about himself, then exhaled, "Sore? Definitely sore, and tired, and I feel the beginning of a headache, but other than that I'm okay."

The doctor nodded, "That's good to hear, we can get you some aspirin for that headache." He smiled and looked at another sheet, "Now it says here that this was a situation where the over-medication was completely accidental, yeah? And I recently spoke to Dr. Bonnefoy, who assured me that you are neither an abuser of drugs, nor have you previously shown any suicidal tendencies that you would act upon," he flipped the pages back down and tucked the thing to his chest, "so it seems to me that this has mostly been handled as far as this medical end is concerned."

Alfred seemed to relax, and the doctor continued with a gentle look on his face, "That said, I'd like you to take it easy for the week or two. Let your body get back to where it was before this, get lots of sleep, drink a lot of fluids, and your system should finish clearing itself out easily."

He hummed, "Now, I'm aware that Mr. Bonnefoy has you on the medication he's prescribed, and that's fine, but I would hold off on it for a few days at least, before re-introducing it to your system."

Nodding, Alfred squeezed Ivan's hand again, "Okay, cool."

The doctor smiled, "Good. As far as I'm concerned, you're free to go, just fill out the discharge papers at the front desk and have a good rest of the day, Mr. Jones."

"Thank you," Ivan and Alfred said at the same time, and the doctor nodded at them as he left the room.

When he was gone, Ivan leaned over and kissed Alfred's cheek, which made him smile.

A nurse came in a few minutes later to give him some aspirin, unhook him from the IV, and give him his clothes back (they'd stripped him and changed him into the hospital gown), so he changed in the little bathroom in his room before he and Ivan walked to the front desk. The paperwork was very quick, and the woman at the desk waved them off with a smile as Ivan led Alfred to his car.

At this point, Alfred was feeling tired again, even though he knew he hadn't been conscious in a long time, but Ivan only smiled at him, "You can sleep when we get to my place, and then we can go pick up some of your things from your apartment."

Alfred smiled, "Yeah, that sounds great."

When they made it to Ivan's, Alfred made to sleep on the couch, but Ivan walked him back to the bedroom instead, asked him to undress to only his shirt and underwear, then tucked a very sleepy Alfred into his bed.  
>He kissed Alfred on the forehead, smiling and murmured, "Sleep well."<p>

Alfred gave Ivan's cheek a pat and muttered his thanks, but it was mostly garbled against the pillow, and he was asleep before Ivan could turn out the lights.


	14. Alone Together

When Alfred woke up, it was still dark. It took him a moment to remember where he was (or much of anything, really), and when he realized, he turned his face into Ivan's pillow and sighed. The bed was that kind of warm where he could feel his heart beating all over, but it was a tempting kind of rhythm that caused heavy sleep. He enjoyed it, let it wash over him while he lay there, but after a few minutes he decided he'd slept enough and should try to find Ivan.

It was a struggle to leave the cocoon of blankets, but he managed it, padding with bare feet out of the room and down the hallway to where Ivan was sitting on the couch and staring at his laptop pensively. When he noticed Alfred come into the room, he smiled and set the laptop down, "You're awake."

Alfred shrugged a shoulder and sat himself down in Ivan's lap, "Barely, but yeah." He curled up around Ivan and kissed his cheek, "Thanks for letting me stay here."

Ivan's hand felt warm on his back, "It's nothing, Alfred." He kissed him softly, still smiling, and brushed his thumb along Alfred's cheek, "How are you feeling?"

"A bit groggy," he admitted, letting his eyes close as he leaned into Ivan's touch, "But okay, I guess. What time is it?"

"A little after 10:30." Alfred felt Ivan's exhale, "I wondered about waking you, but figured you could use the sleep."

With a little nod, Alfred leaned to tuck his head against Ivan's neck, "Yeah, thanks. I'll probably head back to bed whenever you do, I don't think I'll have a problem getting to sleep, actually."

Humming a little, Ivan curled his hand into Alfred's hair, "Hospital stays will do that, so I hear. Are you hungry? There's pizza in the kitchen."

Alfred shrugged a shoulder, "Not really."

"Well then, can I get you something to drink?"

"Maybe a little later…"

Though he felt significantly better than he had at the hospital, Alfred was in a mood now. It wasn't a bad thing that he was feeling, he just needed physical affection; he craved that connection to Ivan, and sighed his gratitude into the skin of Ivan's shoulder while he touched his fill. He got like this sometimes, but because he hadn't dated anyone in a while, he hadn't had someone to curl up with. Yet another reason why being with Ivan was great.

He pressed a kiss to Ivan's jaw softly and murmured, "Do you mind if we just sit here a little while?"  
>There was a gentleness to Ivan's expression as he tightened his hold on Alfred a little, "Of course not. Would you like to watch a movie or something in the meantime?"<p>

Alfred couldn't hold a back a pleased grin at the thought, and he leaned his forehead against Ivan's, "Sure. Yeah, that sounds good."

He could feel Ivan's exhale against his lips, so he kissed it back to him. It made Ivan relax back against the couch, and when Alfred pulled away from him, he noticed a tension him, a tired strain from having been working on something- he knew the signs.

Ivan had his eyes closed a moment, so Alfred kissed his cheek softly and shifted so that he was straddling him. When Ivan opened his eyes, Alfred put his hands on his shoulders and worked the groups of muscles there. Immediately Ivan sighed and let Alfred work, which prompted Alfred to ask, "Stressed recently?"

With a weak shake of his head, Ivan hummed and ran his hand along Alfred's thigh, "Other than the hospital stay, no, not really."

Alfred ignored the little shot of guilt that caused him, "Work okay?"

"Mhm," Ivan traced his finger along the edge of Alfred's boxers, "I'm looking for a new job."

Alfred blinked once, nearly stopping his hands in surprise, "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Carefully, Alfred brought a hand up to card it gently through Ivan's hair, "What are you thinking about?"

There was a sigh, and Ivan opened his eyes a little, "I think I could do fairly well as a teacher."

"For Economics?" Alfred hummed and ran his hands over Ivan's shoulders again, "What grade level are you thinking of?"

Ivan made a face like he was embarrassed, letting out a breath through his teeth that sounded close to a wince, "…High School, actually." He lifted his head to look at Alfred, who only looked surprised.

"Really?" He tilted his head at him and pushed Ivan's hair away from his forehead, "Hm. Why there?"

Ivan's hands drifted from Alfred's thighs to his waist as he thought about it, "I think in most cases the economics classes taught in high schools either go far above students' heads or are just generally unhelpful to them in everyday life." He sighed, "I think if I can get a position teaching economics or microeconomics, I can actually help some of these kids understand what they'll need to do when they're on their own."

Alfred smiled and kissed Ivan's nose, "That's a good thought, babe. I think you'll be good at that." He ran his thumbs along Ivan's cheeks, "What will you need to get that job?"

"An education degree, most likely," Ivan pondered, closing his eyes again to enjoy Alfred's touch, "I'm going to do some asking around, and if I need the education experience, I'll apply somewhere and start working on it as soon as possible."

Nodding now, Alfred smiled brightly and leaned to kiss him, "I'm proud of you, Ivan. That's a good plan."

Ivan relaxed after hearing that and took Alfred's wrists in his hands, "Thank you, Alfred." He kissed him and smiled, "It's something I've been thinking of ever since that conversation we had where you showed me I didn't like my job."

"That long?"

When Ivan nodded, Alfred kissed him again, only to pull away a little and nuzzle their noses together, "Good. Very good. Seems like you won't have to work at that company much longer then, huh?"

Ivan hummed, "Seems that way." He kissed Alfred again, "And I've got you to thank for it."

"Oh, No," Alfred protested, pressing a kiss to Ivan's hairline, "This is all you, buddy. I'm just your cheerleading squad." He smiled, "I could even find the outfit for you, if you're into that."

It made Ivan chuckle and lean forward to kiss Alfred's neck, "Hm, that's something I could get behind."

"I hope that's supposed to be an innuendo." Alfred pulled back a little to grin at him and found Ivan grinning back, so he kissed him again just because he could.

After a few minutes of kissing, Alfred hummed and murmured, "Let's just forget that movie, huh?"

"Some other time," Ivan agreed, and Alfred got off of Ivan's lap to take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. It was still dark, and more than once they nearly tripped over each other, but once they made it back to the bed, they curled around each other again under the covers. They kissed for a little while longer, fingers laced between them, before Ivan tucked his head under Alfred's chin and promptly fell asleep there.

It brought a silly smile to Alfred's face, and he kissed the top of Ivan's head and murmured, "Goodnight, love."

The next time they went to dance class was filled with questions, everyone wanted to know how Alfred was doing and what the plans for the company were. Alfred gave Ivan a little exasperated look before sitting down on one of the benches and putting on his instructor voice.

"Everyone just needs to calm down." Elizaveta sat next to Alfred and he turned to her, "I'm under some orders not to push myself, so I'll need you to lead for the next couple of classes if that's okay with you."

She put her hands on his and gave him a tight nod, "Absolutely. Whatever I can do to help."

Alfred gave her a tight smile, "I appreciate that." He looked at the rest of the group, "Listen guys, everything's cool. I need to be careful for the next little while, so Lizzy's gonna lead you through everything, but I'm still gonna be here to nit-pick and bitch at you- and we're still on schedule to perform in a month, regardless. So no one panic, just business as usual, okay?"

There were some worried looks exchanged, and Ludwig spoke up a moment, "Will it really be alright for you to be away from the routine for so long?"

Now Alfred grinned, "Please, dude, you act like I didn't spend hours of my life creating the routine in the first place." He tapped his temple, "It's all up here, and even if it wasn't, I get to spend some time watching you guys do parts of it anyway. If there's one thing you don't need to worry about, it's me not remembering or performing the routine right. I mean, come on." He crossed his arms over his chest, "Just who the hell do you think I am?"

Ludwig looked surprised a moment, but then he smiled slowly and nodded at him, "Right. I've underestimated you, it seems."

Elizaveta took that opportunity to stand up, "Now that we've settled that, it's time to get to work, everyone, we'll start from the top."

The group, feeling better about the whole situation now, followed Elizaveta's orders, and soon they fell into the regular rhythm of the class. Alfred did help Ivan learn the moves for certain parts, and when he thought Ivan had picked up enough, he encouraged him to join the rest of the class for those parts. And he did well- even better than Alfred had thought he'd do.

It was encouraging. The group looked good, and though he did have to call out a few sloppy moves, Alfred was proud of the work everyone had put in to learning to moves and executing them. Ivan fit in with them nearly seamlessly, and by the end of the class, he was getting clapped on the back by other members of the crew.

When they'd said their goodbyes to everyone and flipped the lights off, Alfred made Ivan wait a moment. He put took Ivan's hands and put them on his own waist, then wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck, smiling.

"Let's dance together for a minute. Then we can go, hm?"

Ivan tilted his head at him, but smiled, gently starting to sway though there wasn't any music, "I suppose we can."

Alfred smiled and lifted his head to kiss him, stepping with him as they moved, "You did really good work today, Vanski. I'm proud of you."

The praise made Ivan duck his head, resting his forehead against Alfred's shoulder and smiling widely, "Thank you, Alfred. It's thanks to you that I'm any good at all."

"Pfft," Alfred rolled his eyes and pressed his cheek to Ivan's head, "Nonsense. You've got the groove, man, you'd have figured it out without me."

Ivan turned his head to press a kiss to Alfred's neck, "Now that's nonsense. I had no rhythm at all before I came here."

Alfred huffed ran his fingers along the back of Ivan's neck, "Well, let's agree to disagree."

When Ivan hummed at him, Alfred brought his hands down to cup Ivan's face and kiss him again. He felt Ivan's arms wrap tighter around him as he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, toying at it gently with his teeth before soothing it with a brush of his tongue. It made Ivan's mouth open for him, so he tilted his head and leaned to capture Ivan's tongue with his own. The groan Ivan released went straight to his groin.

They'd stopped swaying, now, and Alfred was suddenly aware of just how closely they were pressed together. He curled his hand in Ivan's hair as they kissed, and let out a soft noise of surprise when Ivan's hands found his ass.

"Getting handsy, are we?" He breathed between them, grinning as he ran his hands along Ivan's sides and rocked forward against him.

Ivan bit his lip and pressed back, looking at Alfred through lowered lashes, "You're one to talk."

Alfred licked his lips and looked from Ivan's eyes to his lips, "Yeah, I'm the biggest hypocrite I know." Before he could say anything else, Ivan dove back in for another kiss, and Alfred was more than happy to oblige him. When Ivan started moving his hips back against him, Alfred groaned against Ivan's lips and followed that rhythm.

As he started to really get hard, Alfred pulled back a little and exhaled shakily, "Maybe we should… save this for later?"

Ivan was occupying his mouth with kissing at Alfred's neck, which made the other man shiver, but not as much as the words breathed against his ear, "If we shut the door," he reached between them to cup at the bulge in Alfred's pants, "I'd be happy to take care of this for you now." He pressed another kiss to Alfred's cheek, "If you want to, of course."

The mere idea had Alfred's legs going a little weak, but he wanted, he wanted a lot. So he nodded and turned to kiss Ivan again, "_Hell_ yes."

Ivan's grin was encouraging, and he rocked against Alfred again one more time, "I'll get the door, you take a seat for me, okay?"

With a little smile, Alfred sauntered back a little bit and started rucking up his shirt to expose the trail of hair leading down to his crotch, "Don't be long, I might start without you…" He winked and delighted in the way Ivan's pupils dilated that much more.

It was a few more steps backwards before Alfred found the bench and took a seat, and by the time he'd made it there, Ivan had closed and locked the door. When Ivan approached again, Alfred spread his legs in invitation and tugged him down by his shirt to kiss him hotly again.

He curled his hands around Ivan's shoulders and whispered, "How do you want me?"  
>"In every way imaginable," Ivan murmured back, capturing Alfred's mouth again before falling to his knees in front of him, "But this will do for now."<p>

Alfred's face flashed hot, and there was a second where he lost his breath, but when he got it back Ivan took it with another round of kissing. While Alfred tried to lean forward into it, Ivan gently moved him back, enough to lift his hands into Alfred's shirt and expose his chest. When it started to bunch up around his shoulders, Alfred lifted his arms so that they could pull it off of him. It was annoying to break the kiss for that, but when Alfred wanted Ivan's mouth again, the other man put his lips elsewhere, starting from Alfred's pulse and leading down.

There was a beautiful gasp and moan that escaped Alfred when Ivan made it down to his nipples, and Alfred's hand ran through Ivan's hair while he teased at one bud. In the dim light from the hallway, Ivan could see the pink flush leading from Alfred's ears and going down his chest, and he could only wonder what his cock might look like in this light- how flushed and full it might be.

When Alfred arched up against Ivan's mouth with a breathy groan, Ivan decided to continue his trek, but made a note that Alfred seemed to have sensitive nipples (he'd be sure to remember that later). He led kisses down Alfred's stomach and traced his tongue through the trail of hair that lead to his waistband, pleased to feel the other man shuddering a little beneath him.

With a pause, he glanced up at Alfred's face to see desperation and lust. Alfred carded his hand through Ivan's hair again and panted softly, "Okay?"

"Mhm," Ivan hummed, tugging Alfred's sweatpants down to make the sound against his skin.

It took a little shifting for Ivan to get the pants where he wanted them, but soon he held the gently curved weight of Alfred's cock in his hand and was pressing soft kisses to the tip. Alfred made a little keening noise at the teasing, but when Ivan stroked his tongue along the length of it, the way Alfred said his name had him pressing a hand to himself to hold himself back.

Ivan lapped at the tip as his mouth started to water, eager and ready to go along with this plan. It was then that he started to take Alfred into his mouth, inch by inch until he felt a light pressure at the back of his throat. He sucked at all that he could take and worked at the rest of it with his hand, groaning a little at the sounds Alfred was making. When Alfred started clutching at his hair, though, that's when Ivan slipped his free hand into the front of his pants and started working himself off in time to the bob of his head.

"Ivan, oh _god_," Alfred moaned, tipping his head back against the wall, "So good, so fucking good…"

Alfred's thighs tensed on either side of Ivan, so he could tell Alfred was close before he had the chance to warn him. Just before Alfred came, Ivan brought his mouth off of him and worked him to completion with his hand. It made a mess of the floor, and Ivan caught a little of it on his face, but it was so hot that he couldn't think of anything but keeping up the pace with his other hand.

Alfred was panting and coming down from his afterglow when he cracked his eyes open just in time to see Ivan lean his head against his thigh and come into his own hand. It made Alfred groan, "God, Ivan, that's so hot…"  
>He felt Ivan's smile against his thigh as he leaned over enough to find his bag. It was a little digging around before he found a paper towel, which he used to wipe off the spunk that had gotten on Ivan's face, "Got you, a little."<p>

He held the towel out to Ivan, who smiled lazily as he cleaned up the rest of it. When he handed the dirty towel back, Alfred tucked it into his bag again then leaned to take Ivan's face in his hands and kiss him softly. "You are awesome. The most awesome."

Ivan kissed him back and pat his cheek, "Well, I won't argue with that."

Alfred grinned and helped Ivan up, "Come on, let's get out of here before someone realizes what we were up to."

"What the class doesn't know won't hurt them." Ivan smiled as he tucked himself back into his pants.

"And may cause me awkward boners for the next month," Alfred agreed, fixing himself back up and putting his shirt back on. He grabbed their things and led Ivan out of the room, pleased as punch and ready to get back home.

It was a few days later when they both realized that they would have to go by Alfred's apartment to get some of his things. He'd done fine in Ivan's clothes for the time being, which he liked wearing (plus it seemed to turn Ivan on, so there were a few nice make out sessions caused by it), but he was going to try and go back to work and needed his own clothes for that.

So they spent that day relaxing around the apartment with each other, curled on the couch with popcorn while they watched a feel-good movie, lounging in sweatpants and too-big t-shirts and exchanging lazy kisses.

When they'd finished the movie, Ivan nuzzled his nose against Alfred's neck, "…You think you're ready?"

Alfred just leaned back into Ivan's embrace, "…Maybe. Just, uh…" He sighed and wrapped his hand around Ivan's, "So long as you're there I think I'll be okay."

Ivan smiled a little and laced their fingers together, "I'll be there are as long as you want me to be. Shall we go?"

When Alfred nodded, they stood up and headed out, making the short drive with their hands laced between them. They walked carefully up to Alfred's apartment, making quick work of the door and opening it up to the outside air.

Ivan felt Alfred's hand tighten around his, and he gripped him back, "It's alright, Alfred."

Alfred blew out a breath and nodded, trying not to let himself get caught up in memories and bad feelings. Ivan was with him, he hadn't been when he'd gone through those bad times, but he was there now, and those bad things wouldn't happen again. He breathed carefully as they walked through, trying to keep as positive a headspace as he could, and was comforted by Ivan's fingers brushing against his.  
>The bedroom was really where the struggle came, but Alfred bit his lip and determinedly did not look at the bathroom, instead going over to the dresser and starting to take out some clothes. They'd brought Alfred's dance bag with them, so they loaded it up with as many clothes as they thought he'd need, and Ivan was great and move between Alfred and the bathroom so that he didn't have to see it.<p>

When they were done in there, Ivan asked quietly, "Is there anything else you need?"

And as Alfred thought about it, he realized with a swallow that there were things he needed in the bathroom, "Uh. Toiletries."

Ivan immediately nodded and stood up, "I'll get them for you." He ruffled Alfred's hair and smiled, "You stay here."

For a moment Alfred wanted to protest, but Ivan was already in the bathroom and collecting things by the time any sound got out of him. He could hear the clatter of things against tile as Ivan got what he thought Alfred would need, and instead of focusing on that, he focused on Ivan, and on his own breathing.

Ivan was being very kind to him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible, and letting him live with him for a while- that was more than Alfred had ever wanted or thought to ask for. When Ivan came back and tucked Alfred's things into the bag, Alfred took Ivan's hand (he hadn't realized his own were shaking a little), and settled close to hug him.

"Thank you."

He felt Ivan's smile against his hair, "Of course. It's no problem." When Ivan pulled back a little, he asked, "Are you ready to go?"

Alfred nodded against his chest and they stood up, turning away from the unsavory memories that room held and heading back to the safety of Ivan's apartment.

"So we're sure this is gonna work?"

"Well we're never entirely sure," Francis frowned, "But this seems to be the best option- it ensures that you'll have the anti-psychotics to keep the hallucinations at bay, and anti-depressants to help on that front, so unless there is anything else you feel you might need treatment for, we seem to have our bases covered here."

Alfred shook his head, "I hope so. I think I can really start to get better, Francis."

Humming a little, Francis leaned back in his chair, "I've always thought that, but why the confidence all of a sudden?"

"My environment's changed," Alfred closed his eyes, "It's healthier, I think. More loving. I've got more support now. And I've been working less recently, and Ivan's been helping me with my diet. It's not an insta-fix, but…" He shrugged, "I don't know, I like where this is heading."  
>There was a smile on Francis's face, "I like it, too. And I'm glad you're starting to think positively about your improvement, and your future. However," He tapped his pen against his paper, "I am going to encourage you to make sure that your improvement is based on you, not on Ivan being with you. It's important for you to develop habits that you'd have with or without that relationship."<p>

A sigh escaped Alfred, and he turned his head to Francis with a frown, "I know that, and that's not what I'm saying. I just." He shrugged a let himself relax a little, "I feel good. I mean, I had panic attack at Ivan's the other day but there were no voices and he calmed me through it. It's a good start, I think."

Francis seemed content, "It is, yes. I think with this you can start to take care of yourself more, maybe devote some time to socializing and building relationships."

"Well I could do that," Alfred pondered, "I'll be going back to work soon, but maybe if I alter my schedule a bit…"

"I like that line of thinking."

Alfred smiled.

Francis took a post-it note and wrote down the date and time before he did anything else. The minute Ivan walked into his office, he went to the couch and lay down. He never thought he'd see the day when that happened.

"…And how are you, Ivan?"

"Happy," he said, eyes closed as he smiled at his own thoughts, "Did I tell you that I plan on becoming a teacher?"

"You mentioned it," Francis nodded, "And you said that might cause you to have to go back and get a degree again, right? What are your feelings on that?"

Ivan hummed, "Well, nervous." He brought his hands up to rest on his stomach, "But excited. There's a lot I could do with a teaching degree, and I think it will be nice to go back to college. I enjoyed the experience while I was there the first time. And even if I don't have to go back, this is a whole new world for me. It's going to be very different."

"Change of this nature could be a good thing, so I'm glad you're enthused about it."

"There's that," Ivan admitted, "And things with Alfred are wonderful."

A little smile spread on Francis's face, "Are they?"

"Yes. I really think this can go places. And that we'll both get something good out of it, even if it doesn't last long."

As he nodded and took down some notes, Francis murmured to himself, "You're not the only one."


End file.
